


Mousetrap

by NightDarkSoul



Category: Princess Principal (Anime)
Genre: Character Death, Dark, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex, Prison, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightDarkSoul/pseuds/NightDarkSoul
Summary: The mission was a setup. The informant was bait. Ange is captured. Gazelle Flint will go to any length to extract information from her. Will Ange break? Can she even survive?
Relationships: Ange le Carré & Gazelle Flint, Ange le Carré/Original Character(s), Ange le Carré/Princess | Charlotte (background)
Kudos: 11





	1. Day Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-Posted on AdultFanFiction.

"I don't like it," Dorothy said quietly. Ange lowered her telescope, and glanced at the older girl. Her expression remained neutral.

"All is according to plan thus far. I do not see why things should change now."

"Yeah, I know. It just feels too pat. Too simple, you know?"

"You suspect a trap."

"Yeah."

"Well. There is no better spot to disarm a trap than from within it."

"Says the mouse," Dorothy grumbled.

"We are doomed to die a horrible death at a young age, Dorothy. Best to get it over with and not fear it before it happens."

Dorothy laughed bitterly.

"You're no Shakespeare, but what the hell. Good day to die and all?"

"Indeed."

Dorothy hooked her arm over Ange's shoulders, and the two glowed green. Ange stood, effortlessly lifting Dorothy with one arm, and began to run down the side of the building. As they passed an open window, Dorothy grabbed the sill, and pulled herself in.

"This is my stop. Good luck and don't get dead."

"Break a leg," Ange stated as she continued running.

She ran down the wall as easily as running down the street. When she reached ground level, she shut off her C-Ball, but didn't break stride. After a few more yards, she reached her destination, skidding to a halt.

She drew her revolver, and confirmed at a glance that it was ready to fire.

The town-house she stood at had a red-painted door, and a brass panel.

"Number 19. MacIntyre."

She turned the knob. It was unlocked. The door pushed inward with a slight creaking sound. She glanced around. The living room was empty, except for a pair of wooden chairs along one wall.

She stepped inside and closed the door. Walking softly and quietly as she could, she crossed the living room and peered into the kitchen. Empty as well, beyond a built-in wood-fired stove. Ange frowned, and returned to the living room. A flight of stairs led up. Leading with her gun, she moved slowly and quietly up the stairs. There was a short hallway. One open door led to the bathroom. A porcelain claw-tub sat empty. A second door was closed. She grasped the knob to turn it, and felt that the door was neither locked nor latched. She pushed it and glanced inside.

On a double bed with yellow sheets lay the naked body of a girl with shoulder-length auburn hair. Her green eyes were open wide, frozen in terror.

Her throat had been slashed open, her torso and the sheets beneath her drenched in blood.

Ange glanced around the room. Other than the bed and corpse, it was empty.

"Trap," she whispered to herself. She turned and moved back down the stairs. Slowly, as there was no value in rushing. She was in the middle of the trap, as it was being sprung, and hasty action would only make things worse.

The living room was still empty, but for the two chairs. She tried the front door. It was now locked.

She pushed the curtains aside at what should have been the main window. A solid piece of wood greeted her instead of glass.

She turned and moved to the kitchen. There was a back door leading out from here. It was also locked.

She blinked. The room was becoming fuzzy. She could hear a very soft hissing noise.

Perhaps too late, she pulled her mask over her nose and mouth. If she could gain only a few more minutes....

The bedroom upstairs had a window. That was one avenue of escape. It would take time to get up the stairs, and she was beginning to feel light-headed.

On the wall opposite the stove was a curtain. She pulled this aside. She found another solid sheet of wood.

She made an annoyed sound, and turned. She staggered out into the living room. She blinked. Her vision was worse, like a water-stained pane of glass. She aimed her gun at the plywood covering the main window. She eased the trigger back. The hammer pulled back, then fell onto the bullet. There was an explosion, the top portion of the automatic revolver recoiled back, rotating the cylinder to a fresh bullet.

Ange blinked. Her hand shook. She resisted the urge to take a deep breath.

She staggered over to the wall. The bullet had lodged in the plaster beside the wood. She fell to her knees, the gun slipping out of her hand. She shook her head, and crawled over to the door. She gripped the knob, turning it each way, and tugging it with all her strength.

Then the world took on a reddish hue, and she felt herself collapse to the floor.

_A good day to die_ , she told herself, as everything turned pitch black, and she lost the world.


	2. Days One to Three

**\--Day One--**

Ange felt herself ease back into reality. Her eyes were closed. Consciousness, still blurred by grogginess, returned.

Her eyes opened. She was in a small, dark room with stone brick walls, floor, and ceiling. A very dim light filtered in from somewhere. She lay on her back on a low, uncomfortable mattress. More of a cot than a bed. She glanced down at herself.

She still wore her bodysuit, gloves, and boots. Her hat and mask were gone, not to mention her belts, pouches, gun, C-Ball, lock-picks, and every other useful tool she usually carried.

She sat up slowly. Her head ached. Doubtless the after-effect of whatever gas had been used to knock her out.

She frowned. It had been an obvious trap. As she sat, waiting for her head to clear, she second-guessed her cavalier attitude. Entering the house, going upstairs, all without assuring that the front door had not been locked after her. Going without her mask in place to begin with. It wouldn't have stopped the gas from working eventually, but it would have bought her a few more precious minutes.

She sighed. No value in dwelling in the past. She had been captured. She would escape.

She slowly pulled herself to her feet. A wave of nauseous dizziness washed over her. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them when it passed.

There was very little to see in the cell. A metal door closed it off. She ran her fingertips along the surface. There was a small sliding panel at eye-level. She tested it, but was unable to open it from her side. Further down was a small doorknob, which she tried twisting. It did not move.

She frowned, and glanced around what little remained of the room. In one corner was a low wooden bench with a hole cut out the middle. She knelt down beside it, and grimaced at the stench of human waste.

Still, a latrine represented a potential escape route. She reached into the hole, as far down as she could. At about shoulder-depth, she found iron bars that prevented anything larger than fist-size from going past.

She pulled her arm out, and frowned at the substance on her glove. Without any other option, she wiped it off on the frills at her hips. She had more important things than fastidiousness or squeamishness to consider at the moment.

She stood, and turned back to the door. At that moment, she heard a scraping and a click. The metal door slowly opened. She adopted a neutral expression, and watched as a guard entered. He wore a dark blue uniform with silver buttons, similar to that of a Metropolitan policeman but with a dark blue forage cap in place of the standard Custodian helmet. Insignia on the cap and uniform indicated he was part of the Royal Prison Service.

"I suppose that you are here to apologize for the inconvenience, and allow me on my way?"  
The guard chuckled.

"Not so much, C'mon."

Ange noticed that, just outside the door, stood a second officer. This one held a long wooden truncheon in one hand, tapping it menacingly against his free hand.

"I see. I would appear to have no choice."

The first guard nodded, and backed carefully out of the cell. Ange casually followed him out into the hallway.

Like the cell, it had stone brick walls, ceiling, and floor. It was dimly lit with small, weak electric bulbs hanging along one wall, she counted six more metal doors like hers along the length of the corridor. On either end were iron gates.

For a brief moment she considered resisting. One guard armed with a keyring, and a second with a truncheon, would prove an interesting fight, but by no means an impossible one. Then, she noticed the subtle openings along the far wall, through which the muzzles of guns pointed. She counted six. Her frown deepened.

"Shall we," she quipped, turning and striding down the corridor toward one of the two gates.

The guard with the truncheon laughed.

"This is gonna be a fun one," he said.

The gate opened, and four more guards, three armed with truncheons, stood on the other side. The first guard pushed her bodily through the gate. She glanced back at him with a frown.

"That was unnecessary. I have no intent to fight you."

"Bullshit," he spat. "You have every intent to fight and resist with every inch you're given."

Ange shrugged, and turned back.

"Well. If you would be so kind as to lead the way. I am, after all, a guest here."

The four guards with truncheons formed into a loose formation, and the first guard gestured toward another door.

"Ladies first," he sneered.

Ange glanced at him with a curt nod, and walked over to the door. The iron gate was closed and locked by the other apparently unarmed guard.

The door opened into yet another stone-brick corridor. This one had only two metal doors along one wall, and a third at the far end. Ange walked down the length of the corridor to this door, before a heavy hand clasped her shoulder.

"Nope, you're going too far dear," the first guard sneered.

Ange glanced back at him, her frown darkening.

"You could have simply informed me which door we were to use."

The armed guards laughed.

"That wouldn't be any fun at all though," the first one said, genuinely amused.

He released her shoulder, and opened the first of the two doors.

Within was a wooden table and two chairs, one on either side.

The first guard pushed her roughly from behind, and pointed at the chair on the far side of the table. The wall behind the table was solid, with no windows. There was an electric light hanging from the ceiling, over the chair she had been directed toward.

"A gentleman would pull the chair out."

"For a lady, yeah."

One guard with a truncheon chuckled, and stepped inside the door, which was closed by one of the others.

Ange shrugged, and sat.

The two guards stood on either side of her.

"Is this going to take long?" Ange asked. "I am expected at tea in an hour."

Both guards laughed.

"I suspect you'll miss your date," the first one said in an amused voice.

Ange turned to the table. It was solid. Likely made of oak. She had not had the chance to look, but she suspected that it was bolted to the floor. It would be too tempting otherwise to flip the table up and onto what she suspected would be a police interrogator in the other seat.

She looked up. The light above her was a touch brighter than when she had been brought in. She felt warm. She suspected that as the light increased, the heat would as well.

The door opened, and she looked at the person who entered.

She wore a white uniform, which contrasted sharply with her brown skin and black hair. A black shirt and yellow tie complimented the severe look. Her blue eyes were partly concealed behind thin-framed glasses.

The woman strode to the chair and sat gracefully. Behind her, one of the two guards with truncheons entered the room, and the fourth, still outside, closed and locked the door.

"Name," the woman asked in an even voice.

"Gazelle Flint," Ange replied.

"Your name," the woman said, showing no expression.

"On the Black Lizard Planet, we do not bother with names."

"Age."

"It has been three and one half years since I was hatched from an egg."

Gazelle didn't react to the answer, other than to jot notes down on her clipboard.

"You are a Commonwealth spy, and you were captured in the act of espionage."

"I am a fugitive from the Black Lizard Planet. I was out for a stroll, when I noticed a young woman waving at me from an upstairs window."

"You were found in the same house as a corpse with her throat slashed open."

"I believe the only one more surprised at that was the poor girl with her slashed-open throat," Ange replied evenly.

Gazelle made more notes on her clipboard.

"Give me the names of your comrades. There are, we believe, four other young women on your team."

"I know of many young women. Shall I randomly select for you four names?"

"We can do this one of two ways, Ange le Carré. You can give me the names of your four comrades, and we will treat you with leniency. We cannot release you outright as we have many questions for you, but your stay here will be comfortable. On the other hand, we can do this the hard way."

"I believe that anything worth having is worth a challenge, do you not?"

A thin smile crossed Gazelle's lips.

"Yes, I do in fact."

She stood up and the guard behind her unlocked and opened the door.

"Escort Ms. le Carré back to her cell."

Gazelle turned and left the room.

"So may I go now?" Ange asked, glancing up at the unarmed guard.

"Yeah, I think your interview is over."

"I am glad. I was beginning to feel a bit chilly. You may consider installing more efficient radiators."

"C'mon," he snapped, gripping her forearm and tugging her to her feet. Ange frowned.

"Impatient and impolite. I believe that should like a word with your supervisor."

"You already had one, and she wasn't sympathetic."

Ange was led back to the cell she woke up in, back along the same path as before. She did not fight or resist, and neither she nor any guard said anything. When she was back in the cell, a female guard entered carrying a tray with a hunk of bread and a mug of water. She was dressed like the male guards, with a long black skirt replacing the pants.

“Supper,” she said simply, and placed the tray on the ground. She then left, followed by the other guards. The door was closed and locked.

Ange sat down on the cot, choosing to ignore the food and water.

**\--Day Two--**

Whether or not she had intended to, Ange had fallen asleep at some point. She became aware of this as she found herself jolted out of sleep by the cell door opening, and a swarm of guards piling into her room. Barely awake, she became aware of many sets of hands grabbing at her. A fraction too late, she fought back. She lashed out with a foot, connecting with some part of a guard’s anatomy. She heard an agonized grunt, and felt a hand release her. It was quickly replaced by two more.

Despite her struggles, she soon found strong hands clasped around her wrists and ankles, gripping her hair and her ass, and several on her back. She was lifted off of the cot.

Ignoring composure, she grunted and hissed in her futile struggles,

“God damned wildcat,” she heard a guard curse. She found perverse satisfaction in this.

The mass of guards awkwardly navigated through the door, Ange not cooperating for a second. At least one guard was slammed hard against the door-frame, collapsing and being left behind.

The female guard she remembered from earlier unlocked and opened the iron gate she had not been through earlier, and then scrambled out of the way.

The room beyond had three more doors. They forcibly carried Ange over to one, which the female guard again opened.

Inside was a contraption that was hinged, to be either a chair or table. There were shackles at the ankles and the wrists. It was currently set as a table. On a shelf beside this was an electric hair-clipper, connected by a heavy black cable to the wall.

Ange made a sound of disgust, and redoubled her efforts to escape. She was thrust down against the floor, and the hands took turns grasping at and ripping her clothing. She cried out, kicking and punching. She kicked one guard’s crotch, and he collapsed to the floor with a pained groan. She felt another guard’s nose crack under her fist.

There were too many guards. Despite her struggle, she was unable to win. She felt her gloves peeled off of her hands. She felt her boots tugged away from her feet. Her bodysuit was gripped and ripped until she was naked, and then she felt her bare flesh pawed by the hands of the guards. Roughly, she was pulled off the floor and shoved onto the contraption.

She continued to fight. One guard staggered back after she thrust her heel into his face. Still, there were too many. One by one, her ankles and wrists were shackled down. Even then she fought, testing the strength of her bonds.

Another male guard walked over to the shelf and picked up the electric clippers. He touched the contact, and they buzzed. He walked over to Ange. Another guard made an adjustment to the table, and it split like a V, spreading Ange's legs. Her eyes went wide, and she struggled with all her strength.

“Might want to hold still. These are designed not to cut skin, but if you squirm around like that, there’s no guarantee.”

Ange stopped moving, turning a dark glare on the guard. She watched as he stepped to her, between her spread legs. He placed his hand on her lower abdomen, just above her pubes. He placed the clippers against her skin between her legs, and drew them up. Her skin tingled. She felt the blades as they sheared through her nether hair. She felt the hair fall away.

“You’re going to be in here a while, and we don’t want to hose you down every day, and we certainly aren’t going to give you the luxury of soap and shampoo. Easier to do this than deal with lice and other parasites,”

He finished, drawing the clippers up to his hand the final time. He moved the clippers away from her skin, and with his free hand, brushed the clipped hairs away from Ange’s freshly-shaved pussy. She drew back from his touch, and he laughed.

“No where to go, love. Remember,” he sneered, patting her pussy twice before leaving his hand there, “you could've avoided this by just cooperating yesterday.”

The guards around her laughed. He moved his hand off her body and took a step back. Another guard pushed her legs back together, and adjusted the contraption into a chair.

The guard with the clippers then walked around behind Ange, placing his free hand on the top of her head. She felt the clippers on the back of her neck. He ran it through the hair on her head, and Ange felt it cut free, tumbling down her ear and neck and shoulder.

“Well,” she said in a composed voice, “this is fine. As a resident of the Black Lizard Planet, I am unused to hair. It will, perhaps, be comfortable to do without it again, for a time.”

The guards around her laughed.

“Still got your fighting spirit,” the man shaving her head said.

Ange glanced at one of the guards lying on the floor, holding a nose gushing with blood.

“Perhaps you can ask your comrade there about my fighting spirit.”

The guard laughed.

She felt the last of her hair cascade down her body, except for her braid, and the tuft of hair it was secured to by the black ribbon. The guard walked around to her front, and leaned in close.

"This have sentimental value," the guard asked, tugging sharply at the braid.

"None," Ange replied in an even, cold voice.

With a few quick swipes, the guard cut it off of her.

"Might keep it as a souvenir," he sneered.

"Do so," Ange replied. "It will be the only thing you get from me."

The guard laughed again, and leaned back in, close enough that the tip of his nose brushed hers.

"We'll see about that," he said quietly, his free hand again brushing against her shaven pussy. Ange's expression darkened, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction otherwise. He laughed, and walked back to the table. He shut off the clippers, and set them down.

"Take her back," he ordered, then left the room with Ange's braid in his hand.

The guards grabbed her arms and legs firmly, and undid the shackles. She did not fight this time. They released her, except for her arms, and pulled her up. The concrete floor was cold against her bare feet, but Ange ignored this. She took a quick glance at the grey hair clippings that lay around the chair, then turned back.

"I believe that he needs further practice. I do not feel that the result is especially stylish."

The guards laughed. With one holding onto her forearm, she was led back out of the room, and into the chamber with three doors. The female guard, glancing at her with a look of contempt, unlocked and opened the iron gate. The guards led her back to her cell door, which was still open.

Another guard, holding a long truncheon, stood in front of the door. He leaned in close to Ange.

"You best watch your shit, bitch. Some of them guards you hurt were my friends."

"A shame they had such poor taste," Ange quipped.

The guard scowled, and placed the tip of his truncheon under her chin.

"Mind yourself. If I get you alone...."

He pressed the truncheon up, forcing Ange's head back. She maintained her disposition despite the pain.

"That's enough," another guard chided. The guard with the truncheon frowned, and pulled it back. When Ange lowered her face, he again leaned in close to her with a sneer.

"Remember. Watch your ass. I get you alone I'll tear it apart."

"I shall bear that in mind," Ange replied calmly.

The guard made an annoyed sound, and turned to leave.

Then the other guard shoved her into her cell. The door was closed and locked.

Ange took a step into the room, and when she was sure the door was closed, she took a deep breath. She shivered. It was chilly, but there was more than that.

She closed her eyes, and tightly wrapped her arms around herself. She bit back a sob, and managed somehow to prevent tears from leaking out of her eyes. Her knees went weak, and she collapsed onto the cot.

"Princess," she whispered very quietly. "Princess, please come to me. I do not know if I can hold out against this."

She opened her eyes, and looked at the door. Prayer would get her nowhere, she realized.

She managed to get to her feet, and used the latrine despite revulsion. Then she returned to the cot, and covered herself with the thin blanket on it. She closed her eyes, and fell asleep without crying.

Some time later, she did not know how long, she heard the door to her cell being unlocked. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up, the blanket still wrapped around her body. She took a deep breath to settle herself. She could not look frightened when the door opened.

When it did, the female guard entered. Her expression still spoke of contempt. She carried a tray with a mug and a hunk of bread, and a grey cloth under her arm. She knelt and placed the tray on the ground, then dropped the cloth, a long shirt, beside it. She stood up.

"Eat this time. You go too many days without they force feed you, and I wouldn't even wish that on the likes of you."

Ange didn't respond, simply watching her with a neutral expression. The female guard shook her head, turned, and left the room. The door was closed and locked behind her.

Ange stood, allowing the blanket to fall to the cot. She picked up the shirt. It was clean and not especially frayed. She slipped it on, and it covered her down to her knees.

Slightly more confident, she then examined the mug. It was water. It smelled normal. She took a sip, and it was cool, clear, and untainted by poisons or drugs.

She drank her fill, then examined the bread. It was fairly fresh and soft, neither mouldy nor maggoty, and tasted fine. Not delicious by any means, but safe. She decided the best option would be to eat. She wanted to keep up her strength, to fight and escape. That had to be her priority. She sat down on the cot, munching on the bread, and finishing the water. There was nothing left to do but wait.

**\--Day Three--**

She found herself once again waking up to the sound of the door being unlocked. She braced herself for what might happen. When the door opened, three guards she did not recognize entered. Two carried shackled chains, one short likely intended for the wrists, the other longer and probably for the ankles. The third guard carried a truncheon.

“Stand,” the guard with the truncheon commanded.

Ange blinked and remained seated.

“I said stand, prisoner.”

“Did you?”

The guard with the truncheon frowned.

“I will not ask a third time.”

Ange remained seated.

The guards with shackles glanced awkwardly at the third. He pushed past them, and placed the truncheon against Ange’s cheek.

“I’ll overlook it this time. Heard about you, you know. I don’t really wanna hurt you. So I will ask just once more. Stand up.”

Ange stared at him without moving, and without speaking.

He shrugged, and glanced at the man with the shorter shackles.

“Those can wait. Help me out here.

Uncertainly, he placed them on the ground. The man with the truncheon shifted and grabbed at Ange’s leg.

Abruptly, she drove her knee up into his jaw. He grunted in anger and pain, and staggered back. The other two jolted in surprise. Ange was up off of the cot in a flash, driving the palm of her hand into the nose of the guard with the longer shackles, then kicked the other man in the balls, sending him to the ground with a pathetic mewl of agony. Two more guards with truncheons entered the cell. One swung at her, and she ducked under it. She punched his side. He grunted in pain, but did not fall.  Ange came up, leading with her fist. She was hit from behind, and cried out in pain. She fell to her knees. A truncheon was placed against her throat, and she was pulled back roughly, choking her.

“You need to learn manners,” the guard hissed angrily at her.

The other guards grabbed at her legs, and fastened the shackles around her ankles. Then the guard behind her loosened the truncheon.

“Gonna let you go. Your legs are hobbled. You fight again I really hurt you, got it?”

Ange did not respond, but as she was released, she stood up, slowly, rubbing her throat.

Guards grabbed her arms, pulling them roughly behind her back. She gritted her teeth against the pain, but did not fight Soon her wrists were shackled as well.

“There. See, it’s easy if you don’t fight it.”

Ange did not respond. She also did not struggle or fight when the guard pushed her out the door. She was led, by a guard gripping her forearm a touch too tightly, down the hallway. An another guard opened the iron gate, and she was led through another of the three doors. In this room there was a chair with shackles at wrists and ankles, and an electric light hanging from the ceiling. Chains hung from the ceiling a little further in, with shackles on them. Another door was on the opposite side of the room.

Ange was pushed toward the chair, and her ankles and wrists unshackled. She elected not to fight, and was shoved into the chair, to which she was again shackled.

All the guards except for one with a truncheon left the room, and the door was locked.

Ange looked at him, and he impassively returned her gaze.

After a moment, Ange heard the other door behind her open.

“Well. You appear to be the worse for wear Ange le Carré.”

Ange craned her head as far as she could, but could not see behind her with the chair’s back.

“Gazelle Flint. Are you here to dirty your hands for a change?”

She heard the woman walk up directly behind her.

“I came to check on you.”

Ange felt Gazelle’s hand brush across the top of her head.

“You looked better before.”

“I rather think this look is quite fetching,” Ange replied evenly.

“Good. You’ll have it for a while, I believe.”

Gazelle’s hand left her, and she heard the woman step away from the chair.

The light above her turned on.

“Since you were cold in the other interrogation room, I thought perhaps this one would be more to your liking,” Gazelle said simply.

“Is that so? Well, we shall see.”

Gazelle said nothing more. The light increased in brightness.

Ange continued to stare at the guard.

She blinked. The light, and heat, was steadily increasing.

“Do you not intend to ask more questions?”

“She already left,” the guard said with a smirk.

Ange craned her neck again, but was still unable to see behind her. She frowned, and turned back to the guard.

“So, was this your first career choice?” Ange asked. The guard laughed.

Ange blinked. She felt sweat bead on her shaved head, neck, and back. The light and heat continued to increase.

“It is hot in here,” the guard casually remarked. “Good thing I only have a few more minutes on my shift. Too bad you’re not going anywhere.”

Ange resisted the urge to pant. She blinked as sweat dribbled into her eyes.

"It is... quite comfortable," Ange managed to say. The guard grinned.

"That so?"

She nodded.

"Yes. I could... I could remain here for many hours."

"Well, that's kinda the idea."

The door opened then, and the guard that entered looked familiar to Ange. She felt a stirring of fear in her gut. It was the guard that had threatened her the other day.

He smirked. He held two glass bottles filled with clear fluid. He handed one to the other guard.

"Water. Fresh from the ice-box. Nice and cool."

"Ah, thanks."

He uncorked it, and drank down half. Ange couldn't stop from watching. She realized how long it had been since she had been given water. Sweat dribbled down her cheek.

"Ahhh! That's refreshing," he said, winking at Ange.

The fresh guard chuckled, and drank too.

"Isn't it? Wow, it is hot in here. Sure glad I have this water."

The first guard laughed.

"And I am glad that I'm off."

He turned to Ange, and gave a mocking bow.

"Well, my dear. Enjoy the sauna."

He turned and left.

The light and heat increased. Ange squirmed. She blinked, and took in rapid, panting breaths. The guard took another drink, and smirked at her.

"Enjoying yourself?"  
"I thought," Ange managed to gasp, "that you... intended to tear me... tear my ass. When we next met."

The guard laughed.

"Oh, eager? I like that. Yeah, seeing you all hot and bothered, helpless, your shirt sticking to your tits ... I'm hard as a rock here. I really wish I could, but orders are orders. Still, when I can I fully intend to stuff your ass so hard my cum'll shoot out your nose."

Ange blinked. She opened her mouth to retort, but somehow lost the train of thought.

The guard laughed again, and finished his bottle of water.

"That was refreshing."

He set the bottle down on a table by the door.

The light and the heat increased in intensity.

Ange felt her eyelids grow heavy. She fought against them closing, but the heat was growing too much for her. Her eyes closed.

Suddenly, she felt her shoulder violently shaken. The guard was frowning.

"Gotta stay awake, I am afraid."

She tried to swallow. Her throat was dry.

She blinked. Sweat drenched her body. She squirmed.

"Is... is this all... all the heat I can get?"

The guard laughed.

"Oh, we can make it hotter. We're not allowed to, not even for a worthless cunt like you. It isn't _safe_." His tone was sharp with sarcasm.

Ange's eyes barely stayed open. She nodded, intending to say something, but again couldn't get the words out.

The guard sat down, watching her. Ange's vision was blurry. Her body felt heavy. Her eyes fluttered closed. Again, she was jostled awake by the guard.

She lost track of time, between her eyes closing, and being jostled awake, and squirming in intense discomfort.

At some point, she felt her bladder grow heavy. She blinked, and groaned very softly. She shifted her weight, and pressed her legs together as well as she could.

The door opened, and a brief blast of cold air hit her. She felt her urethra spasm. A hot wet sensation spread along her thighs.

She blinked, and looked at the guard. It was a different guard. He had a bottle of water as well, and had taken a drink. His nose wrinkled, and he looked at her in disgust. He said nothing, but sat down.

Ange groaned, and closed her eyes. Immediately her shoulder was shaken. The guard, wearing an expression of deep revulsion, frowned at her before returning to his seat.

This continued several more times. After a while, the door opened once more, and three new guards entered. They walked over to the chair and unshackled Ange. They pulled her up, and dragged her out of the door.

She shivered. Her body was drenched in sweat. Piss dribbled down her legs. She felt ice-cold.

She was only vaguely aware of being returned to her cell. When she felt herself dumped on the floor, and heard the door slam closed, she blinked. She glanced around slightly confused. Then she saw a tall mug sitting beside her cot. She crawled over to it and picked it up.

It was water. She tipped the mug against her lips, desperately drinking, not minding the water that spilled down her chin and chest.

She allowed the empty mug to fall to the floor, managed to crawl into the cot, and passed out.


	3. Days Four to Twenty

\--Day Four--

It was becoming a familiar routine. Ange was jolted out of her sleep by the sound of the cell door opening. She sat up slowly. The door opened, and the female guard entered, carrying a tray of food and water. Her nose wrinkled.

"Christ you reek," she muttered, setting the tray on the floor.

Ange didn't answer, instead stumbling over to the tray, dropping to her knees, and drinking eagerly.

The girl shook her head, and turned to leave.

\--Day Five--

The female guard brought Ange a fresh shirt along with bread and water. Ange, shamelessly, pulled her sweat and urine stained shirt off, vaguely wiped herself down with it, and tossed it on the floor. Then she pulled on the fresh shirt.

"Least you don't shit yourself," the woman sneered. Ange ignored her, choosing instead to sit on the floor to eat and drink.

\--Day Nine--

Yet another day, the ninth if she was counting correctly, began in the usual way in here: the door being unlocked and opened woke her from her sleep. She sat up slowly. The cot was far from comfortable, but it was also far from the worst she had experienced. Her expression was carefully neutral as three male guards entered the cell, two carrying shackles and the third a truncheon.

“We gonna go another round, kid?”

Ange remained silent and seated. The guard with the longer shackles tentatively walked over to her. Ange, blandly, lifted her left leg. The guards shared a look. With a shrug, the one fastened one end of the shackles to her left ankle. Ange then lowered it, raising her right.

“You’re learning,” the guard with the truncheon said in an amused tone. “Stand up,”

She did so. The guard with the shorter chain shackled her wrists together, behind her back, then took her right forearm in both hands.

“Am I to have another sauna? It was quite a soothing experience last time.”

The guards did not answer, instead leading her silently back to the room with the chair, and the shackles hanging from the ceiling. Ange suppressed a shudder as she was unshackled, and led to the chair. She had withstood it before, despite the discomfort and humiliation; she could do so again.

She did not fight or struggle, sitting down when commanded, and allowing her wrists and ankles to be shackled,

The three guards left, locking and locking the door behind them.

She glanced up at the light above her. It was on a reasonable intensity, and the temperature seemed normal.

She heard the door behind her open. After a moment, two guards holding what looked like short sections of rubber hose walked past, turning and standing to either side of the door in front of her.

A third guard stopped beside her. She turned to look at him. He stared back, maintaining a neutral expression.

“Name!?” a voice shouted from behind her.

“Age!” Another shouted also from behind, before she could answer.

“Who are you?”

“Who was the girl you murdered?” The voices were growing louder.

“How did you obtain Cavorite?!”

“What is your name!?” The man shouted so closely to her that she felt spittle strike the top of her head.

"Who are your contacts?"  
"Why have you betrayed your country?!"

She closed her eyes, trying to remain calm.

"What is your name?!"

They continued to shout questions without waiting for answers. Ange was unable to keep track of the time. She kept her eyes closed, ignoring the questions. They were meaningless.

Abruptly the shouting stopped and the guard beside her started unshackling her wrists. She opened her eyes and glanced around the room. The guards in front of her had stepped forward. The one beside her switched to unshackling her ankles. Ange took a deep breath. She would remain calm. Give them no excuse.

Once the guard beside her had undone her shackles, he stood up, and then roughly pulled her out of the chair. He gripped the back of her shirt and pushed her forward, so she staggered forward a step, her shirt ripping in two at the same time. One guard in front of her swung his rubber hose, hitting her stomach with a rubbery thud.

Ange’s vision went blurry with the pain. She half-staggered backwards, beginning to double over, only to have the other guard hit her ass with his hose. She involuntarily jolted forward, into a blow from the other guard that impacted her upper chest. It was followed up by a sharp blow to her mid-back.

She staggered to one side, to once more be hit, this time on her left shin. The pain and force of the blow set her off balance. She fell hard to the floor, unable to suppress a cry of pain. She started to roll to try to escape the blows. She was hit hard between her legs. She cried out again, her eyes watering from the agony. She covered her face with her arms, and tried to roll into a ball. The blows rained down on her again and again. Unrelenting impacts on every part of her body that the guards could reach. She closed her eyes tightly, but was unable to prevent the tears from streaming out. She screamed.

The blows abruptly stopped, and she felt hands grab her by her forearms. She was roughly pulled up to her feet.

“Next time answer our questions cunt,” one of the guards that had been behind her snapped.

She started to open her eyes, but she was already being dragged out of the room. She groaned in pain, closing her eyes again. She was barely aware of the walk back to her cell. Once there she was tossed in. She hit the floor, crying out again. The door closed behind her. She lay on the floor, shuddering and sobbing heavily. Every inch of her body ached. She managed, somehow, to crawl to the cot, pull herself into it, and curl up into a ball under the covers.

\--Day 10--

She woke up sore. She groaned. She sat up in bed, and glanced down at her naked body. In the dim light, she could see the livid, purple bruises on her abdomen, and her chest, and her arms, and her legs. Moving hurt, but she felt her bladder and bowels complain. She pulled herself up to her feet, wincing, and staggered over to the latrine. As she sat there, the door opened.

Ange closed her eyes, trying not to think about the situation. She heard someone enter the room.

“Ummm. Food and water. For you, that is.”

It was a soft, feminine voice. One she did not recognize.

She opened her eyes. The guard had set the tray down by the bed, and was watching her uncertainly. Ange decided to say nothing.

The guard shifted her weight awkwardly, but remained in the room. Once Ange finished her necessities, the guard tentatively took a step toward her. Ange flinched back with a grunt.

“Oh I … no, I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to help.”

Ange took a deep breath, and she shook her head. When the guard reached out toward her, she pulled away from her. The guard sighed, and stepped back, She did not leave the room. When Ange took a step toward her cot, she stumbled, only to be caught by the guard.

Ange immediately cried out, twisting away from the guard. She ended on the floor, and the guard immediately knelt beside her.

Ange sobbed softly and the guard gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Please let me help you,” she whispered.

“Go to hell,” Ange hissed in response.

The guard frowned and stood.

Ange shivered, sobbing.

The guard said nothing, instead turning and leaving the room.

\--Day 14--

Ange sat up slowly in bed. Her bruises looked better. She was less sore. She stood and walked to the latrine. It was her new routine.

The door unlocked and opened. The female guard entered the cell yet again.

"Food and water," she said softly.

Ange nodded at her.

"Thanks," she managed.

The guard smiled widely.

"You're welcome!"

She stood, as she usually did, waiting for Ange to finish. She then made a tentative motion toward her. Ange did not flinch away, instead allowing the guard to help her to her feet.

"You're better today," the guard said in a pleased tone.

"Yes."

Ange settled down on the floor, and grabbed her bread. The guard knelt beside her.

"Eating. Good."

Ange chewed her bread contemplatively, then turned her gaze on the guard.

"Why?"  
The guard shrugged.

"I don't like seeing girls suffer."

"Get a new job," Ange quipped, then returned to eating.

The guard sighed.

"I probably should. None of you girls ever trust me."

Ange ate and drank. She did not respond to this.

When Ange had finished, the guard again helped her settle onto her cot.

"Well, you'll be happy to hear that tomorrow you're gonna get some exercise."  
"I will not be happy unless I am freed."  
"You won't be freed unless you cooperate," she returned.

Ange's expression darkened.

"I will not cooperate."

The guard sighed again.

"You'll just suffer more if you don't. I don't want to see that."

"Get a new job," Ange repeated.

\--Day 15--

Ange's eyes opened. She sat up on her cot. She swung her legs over the edge, and stood. There was barely any soreness left. She walked over to the latrine.

As though on cue, the door opened. The female guard entered.

"Good morning."

Ange nodded, but didn't say anything.

When Ange finished, the guard moved to help her stand, but Ange held up her hand. The guard stepped back, watching as Ange stood on her own, then walked over to the tray of food and water. She sat, and ate.

The guard knelt beside her.

"Today you get to go out to the courtyard."

Ange glanced at her.

"I trust that I shall be dressed first?"  
The female guard nodded.

"Of course."

Ange nodded, continuing to eat.

"The fresh air will do you good," the guard said. Ange shrugged.

When Ange had finished eating and drinking, the guard gently grasped her forearm. Ange pulled away, but the guard shook her head.

"Please?"

Ange looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

The guard again took her forearm, pulling her to her feet.

Ange frowned as three male guards entered.

The female guard stepped back, and one of the three men grasped her wrist. She hissed in pain and anger as her arm was twisted harshly behind her back.

One male guard placed a length of heavy cloth against her eyes, tying it to the back of her head.

Ange took a deep breath. She could see nothing. Not even light. Blind, fighting would be wasted effort at best.

She felt something placed around her neck. It was leather. A collar. It was fastened tight. She swallowed, and raised her free hand toward it.

"Leave it alone," the guard twisting her arm behind her demanded.

"It's tight."

"Bear it," the guard hissed.

"Here, she won't be able to leave well alone."

Ange shuddered it was an all-too familiar voice. She took another deep breath. She tried to remain calm.

She heard the clink of chains, and felt a metal shackle fastened over her left wrist. The guard shifted her arm, and her other wrist was shackled as well, behind her back.

The guard remained behind her, with a hand on her back. She felt another hand, a heavy male hand, press her lower abdomen. She felt hot breath on her face, and flinched.

"God I cannot wait to fuck you," the guard whispered, inches from her face.

Ange did not respond.

She felt the hand shift from her abdomen to her neck. There was a metallic sound as something was fastened to the collar. The guards' hands left her body, and she felt a sudden sharp tug at her neck. Ange winced. They had attached a leash.

"Come on," the male guard coaxed in an amused voice.

Ange stumbled forward.

"Easy there girl. Don't hurt yourself."

Another male guard laughed.

Ange was led out of her cell on the leash. She felt her face turn red hot, and knew she was blushing. She had little choice, and followed the commands given to her.

She heard an iron gate opened, and was pulled through. She heard the laughter of more male guards.

"Taking your bitch for a walk, huh?"

There was more laughter. She heard a door open, and was led into a corridor. She continued to follow. The pace was slow and even, and despite being blinded she did not have trouble navigating. The guard, for all his vicious talk, was going easy on her, at least for now.

Another door opened, and she was led down another corridor.

"Well," she heard the voice of Gazelle Flint. "You seem to be learning obedience. Perhaps you will learn to speak soon as well."

Ange didn't respond.

"Pity."

She was led down the hallway, and heard another door open. She was led out into a wide-open space. She shivered. There was a cold breeze. The air was salty, and heavy with moisture. The guard led her out into the middle of what must have been the courtyard.

She heard laughter around her. Male voices she didn't recognize.

"What breed is that?" leered one voice.

"You gonna mate 'er?"

"I volunteer for that," another male voice volunteered. The laughter increased.

The guard tugged on her leash, and picked up his pace. She nearly fell over, but compensated. The walk turned into a jog, and then a run. She was led around in a wide circle, the movement warming her. The breeze started to feel comfortable. She heard laughter and applause around her.

"You oughta enter her into a show," one man called out.

"Okay guys, c'mon. Exercise's over," said a voice. She recognized it. It belonged to the first guard she had encountered.

There were disappointed groans around her.

"Say, you oughta bring her out tomorrow too."  
"Yeah, give us a show!"

The laughter became distant, then stopped.

The guard slowed his pace to a jog, then to a walk. After a moment, he stopped. She felt the leash tugged again, and it remained taut.

"Got something to do," the guard said. She heard him walk to her. He placed a hand on her ass and squeezed. She jolted away from his touch, and he laughed.

"Be a good girl now. Also, you'll be more comfy if you sit or crouch. Less tension that way."

She heard him walk away.

She heard the door close. Then she heard only the whistling of the wind.

She strained her ears. She concentrated. There was only silence. She was, as far as she could tell, alone.

She took a step backward, away from the leash's tension. When she was unable to move back normally, she braced herself, and tugged. The leash was securely fastened both to the collar, and to something else.

She walked forward until the tension was at its least, and knelt down. It was less straining.

She waited. Her legs grew tired, so she sat cross-legged.

The breeze picked up. She shivered. She still heard nothing, other than the wind.

She continued to sit. It grew colder. She drew her legs up against herself. She tugged at the shackles at her wrists, but they held firm. She felt goosebumps raising all along her naked body. There was a painfully cold gust of wind. She gasped.

She heard the door open. She heard female voices. Numerous voices.

"Oi, what's this then?"  
She heard several people approach, by the sound of their shoes against the hard, cold ground.

Ange took a deep breath. She tried to remain calm.

"Hey baldie, what'cha in for?"

There was laughter. Ange didn't reply.

She felt a hand run along the top of her head. She pulled away. There was more laughter.

More hands grasped her. One on the back of her head, one on her cheek. She felt thin feminine fingers grope her breasts, and run along her abdomen. There was more laughter.

"Get this bitch up on her feet."

She felt hands on her forearms, and she tried to pull away. There was laughter, and countless hands gripping her arms pulling her up. She was held in place.

"New meat in my territory," she heard a deep, if feminine, voice say. She felt a woman move in close to her. She felt hot breath against her face. A hand gripped her pussy, and she jolted, trying to pull away. She was held in place.

"You're a feisty one. Gonna enjoy breaking you."

Ange groaned quietly when she felt the woman's fingers slip just inside her pussy. She again tried to pull away, but was held in place.

"Alright ladies, that's enough."

Ange felt the woman pull her fingers out of her, and her hand pulled off her body. She leaned in close.

"Next time, maybe?"

"I look forward to it," Ange managed to say in an even voice.

The women around her laughed, and she was let go. She stumbled backward a step, breathing very heavily. Her pussy tingled. It did not feel good. She shivered, feeling the cold again.

She remained standing, listening very closely to the sounds of the women as they moved around the courtyard. She heard one approach her closely, and she took a step away.

"Calm down," she heard the voice say. "I won't hurt you. Ange le Carré."

She gasped in surprise.

"You know me?"

The woman moved in closer to her.

"We know where you are," she whispered.

"Control," Ange replied.

"Of course. It's not an easy job of it, but we'll get you free."

Ange nodded, as well as she could.

"Please hurry."

The woman laughed bitterly.

"There's only so much we can do."

"Can you help me directly? Lock-picks? A weapon? Anything?"

"Sorry, Ange. The best I can do is what I am doing. I apologize in advance."

"Apologize?"

She abruptly smacked Ange's ass, laughing crudely.

Ange jolted in surprise, and took a step away from the woman.

"Hey you, get over here!"

"See you soon," the woman said finally to Ange, as she walked away.

Ange swallowed. They knew where she was. She would be free soon. She let this thought run through her head. She would only have to endure this for a little while longer.

Eventually, she heard the door open, and heard the women leaving the courtyard. At the same time, she heard the heavier footsteps of a man approach her.

"Sorry about that," said the voice of the first guard she had encountered. "The moron that led you out here forgot all about you, and then his shift ended."

Ange didn't say anything. She felt the leash loosened from whatever it had been fastened to, then felt the guard pull it taught.

"Hope the girls didn't cause you too much trouble."

"On the contrary, it was quite enjoyable. I should like to request the opportunity to do this again. I believe that I have made a friend or two."

He laughed, and tugged lightly on the leash. She followed him, and he led her inside.

"Well, since you've behaved yourself we're gonna clean you up."

Ange didn't say anything. She was led down a corridor, and through a side door. Once inside, the guard pulled off her blindfold.

She blinked at the sudden light. When she grew used to it, she glanced around. The room had a tile floor and a drain in the middle. A coiled length of rubber hose sat on one side, connected to a spigot. She looked at the guard, who shrugged.

"Not a luxury bath, I'm afraid, but you'll get clean at least."

He unhooked the leash, and then unbuckled the collar from her neck. He set these down on a table beside the door. Then he unfastened the shackles from her wrists.

"Stand over the drain," he said in a firm voice.

She watched him for a moment, not moving.

"You gonna fight me on this too?"

Ange shrugged lightly, then turned and walked to the middle of the room.

The female guard that had been nice to her entered the room. She looked at Ange with a smile. She held a wash-cloth and soap.

"You can thank me later," she said in a cheery voice.

The male guard shook his head and picked up the hose. He turned the spigot, and aimed it at Ange.

She gasped. The water was ice-cold. She shivered heavily, and retreated from the stream of water.

"Hey, you promised not to fight," the male guard said.

Ange, still shivering, nodded. She managed to step back above the drain, and remain there while the male guard sprayed her down head to toe.

He shut off the water, and the female guard moved in.

"Sweetie, this'll help you feel better."

She ran the soap along Ange's body, followed by the wash-cloth. It was a slow, gentle, soothing motion, and while it did little to warm Ange, she felt herself begin to relax. She sighed softly.

"Enjoying this?"

Ange nodded softly. The female guard laughed, and slid the hand with the wash-cloth between Ange's legs. Ange gasped, jolting from the sensation.

"And this?" she asked, gently rubbing Ange's pussy with the wash-cloth.

Ange moaned softly, and nodded again.

"Okay, that'll do," the male guard said in an amused voice.

The woman guard sighed, and reluctantly pulled back. Ange groaned, opening her eyes to meet the gaze of the female guard.

Abruptly, she was hit by a stream of cold water. She cried out, and retreated from it. The male guard kept the stream on her, again hosing her down head to toe.

When the soap was rinsed away, he turned off the water, and coiled the hose back. The female guard had picked up a thick towel, and moved over to Ange.

Ange eagerly fell into the guard's arms, shivering as she rubbed the warm and dry towel over her body.

After a few minutes, the guard pulled the towel away. Ange gazed at her, a smile on her face.

"I'll see you tomorrow," the guard whispered.

Ange nodded, her smile widening.

"Should have a little more time then," the guard continued, with a wink.

She turned and left. The male guard shook his head and sighed.

"C'mon. Let's get you home."

She glanced at him uncertainly.

"Just like this?"

"Yeah, no collar, blindfold or shackles. Don't make me regret this."

She nodded once. He opened the door, and gestured for her to step out. She did so, glancing nervously at the guards flanking the door to the wash-room. The male guard stepped out after her, and placed a hand on her back. She resisted the impulse to pull away from him.

\--Day 16--

Ange opened her eyes. She thought back to the female guard. She had promised to spend more time with Ange today. She would be lying if she said that the contact hadn't been pleasant. It had been more than two weeks since she had been touched in a way that hadn't repulsed her. The female prisoner in the yard, if she had been a prisoner after all, had been as repulsive to her as the touches of the men. The female guard had been different.

She sighed. Her mind reeled back to before she had been taken. She remembered the soft and gentle touch of the Princess' hands. How she caressed her cheeks, and ran fingertips through her hair, and allowed her hands to slide slowly down her back as their lips met.

Ange shivered. The memory left an aching hole in her heart. The guard would not fill that hole, though she might be able to mask it for a time.

Ange closed her eyes. She told herself she should not be thinking this. Not just because she should stay true to her Princess, but because the guard was an enemy. Her gentle touch was not genuine. She would be soft and tender, to make the harsh blows and horrific treatment all the worse. She told herself this, but she realized she would not resist. She would allow herself to drown in the temporary, treacherous pleasure the guard offered her. She would not let herself sink too deeply. No, she would accept the pleasures, and not pay the toll. She told herself this.

She heard the door being unlocked, and sat up eagerly. Her eyes were wide as she watched the door open.

A female guard entered the room, and Ange's expression instantly collapsed.

The guard glanced at Ange with a sour expression, placed the tray of food and water on the floor by the cot, and left without a word.

\--Day 18--

Another day, and again the door opened to reveal a dour female guard who wordlessly left Ange food and water. Another day alone sitting on the floor, naked, eating bread and drinking water. Another day of waiting, the need to use the latrine and the opening of the door to retrieve the empty mug and tray the only relief. Another day that ended when Ange grew too tired and too bored to remain awake.

\--Day 19--

The door opened. Ange’s eyes opened slowly, She watched as three male guards entered the room. They did not have food or water.

“Get up,” one growled.

Ange slowly sat up, carelessly letting the blanket fall to the bed beside her. As she started to stand two of the guards grabbed her forearms, roughly yanking her up to her feet. She frowned.

“I was ….”

“Shut it,” the guard growled again. Ange sighed, but said nothing else.

The guard turned and walked through the door. The other two dragged Ange after him.

They went back into the room with three doors, then into the room with the folding chair contraption. The door was closed and locked behind them.

“Sit,” the guard growled again. Ange bit back a sarcastic comment, and sat.

Her wrists and ankles were shackled, and the contraption was pushed back into being a table. Ange was on her back, inclined slightly toward her head.

“It is a bit soon for a haircut, I think.”

The guard didn’t say anything. He walked to the table, and unfolded a towel. She watched curiously, as he walked over to her. He nodded, and another guard adjusted the headrest. Ange found she was unable to turn her head. She blinked as the towel was placed over her face.

She felt fear in the pit of her stomach. She could not see, and felt off balance with the incline of the table.

“What are you,” she began.

Water poured onto the towel. Ange immediately began to gag, flailing against her bonds in panic. She felt as though she were drowning, and without being able to move her head she could not escape the feeling.

The water stopped pouring, and she coughed, sputtering and gasping for breath.

Abruptly, the water poured again, and she again gagged. Her panic increased, and she flailed heavily against her bonds.

When the water stopped again, she gasped, and cried out.

“Please… don’t….”

She was interrupted by the water pouring over the cloth yet again.

When the water stopped, she sobbed heavily in between gasping breaths.

“Names,” the guard growled into her ear.

Ange could only gasp, sobbing, pleading for them to stop.

The water started pouring again. She thrashed, gagging, sobbing, and when the water stopped this time, she screamed.

The wet cloth was pulled off her face, and the guard leaned in, nearly pressing his forehead to hers.

“Names!”

She shuddered, continuing to cry heavily.

The guard pulled back with a frustrated sound, and brought his fist down hard on her stomach.

She was instantly winded, gasping, and coughing.

“Smith.” It was Gazelle’s voice.

Ange blinked. She could only see vague, blurry shapes around her.

After a moment, her vision cleared. She recognized Gazelle Flint lean in over her, frowning.

“We will continue this daily for an hour at a time, until you crack, Ms le Carré. If you give me the name of one of your comrades, right now, just one, then it will stop.”

Ange swallowed, and shook her head.

Gazelle shook her head.

“Take her back,” she ordered.

\--Day 20--

The next morning, the door opening made Ange whimper in fear. She curled up into a ball on the cot, covering her head with the blanket. She closed her eyes, trying desperately not to think about the sensation of drowning, of the terror and pain. She heard a guard enter the room, and she whimpered again, louder.

When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she screamed and jolted back.

“Oh God,” said a familiar, soft voice.

Ange reluctantly poked her head out from the blankets, her cheeks stained with tears.

It was the female guard. Ange trembled, and untangled herself from the blanket. When the guard wrapped her arms around Ange’s body, Ange responded without hesitation. She buried her face into the guard’s neck, crying heavily. The guard gently rubbed her back.

“It’s alright baby,” the guard cooed. Ange sniffled, her tears mostly spent.

“Where were you?” Ange asked in a quiet, wavering voice.

“They changed my shift darling,” she whispered.

Ange pulled away from her. The guard gently cupped Ange’s cheeks in her hands. She leaned in close. Ange trembled.

“You want this all to stop, don’t you?”

Ange nodded. The guard sighed.

“You can, you know.”

Ange blinked.

“I won’t talk,” she said quietly.

The guard sighed, releasing Ange’s cheeks.

“You won’t?”

Ange shook her head.

Abruptly, guard lashed out, backhanding Ange.

Ange gasped, and blinked, then turned back with a look of shock.

“Talk or suffer.”

Ange closed her eyes, and said nothing. The guard lashed out again, striking Ange’s other cheek.

“You like this, darling? You’d rather have this than kindness?”

Ange said nothing. The guard sighed, and slapped her again. Ange managed not to cry out.

“Talk. Or. Suffer.”

Ange said nothing. The guard slapped her again, across both cheeks.

“No? Pity. I could’ve made you feel good, darling.”

She slapped Ange viciously one last time, before standing up and walking through the door,

Ange, unable to suppress a sob, curled up on her cot again, covering herself with her blanket, and closing her eyes.


	4. Days Twenty-Two to Thirty-Two

\--Day 22--

When the door opened, Ange was sitting up in her cot. She looked up despondently. The female guard who had been friendly before entered wordlessly, set down a tray of food and water, and left. Just as she had yesterday. Just as she would tomorrow.

Ange shifted to the floor, eating and drinking slowly.

\--Day 24—

Ange was jolted awake by the door opening. It felt like the wrong time. She was too tired and disinterested to look. She was taken by surprise by the many hands that reach down, grabbing her. She was grabbed by the forearms and lifted out of bed. Hands pulled the blanket away from her. Hands grabbed her ankles. Hands pawed at her breasts and pussy. She struggled, flailing, crying out, but the hands were too strong, and there were too many of them.

She was carried out of her cell, and down the hall. In the room with three doors, she saw the one female guard. She watched Ange impassively, as the male guards carried her to and through the door with the chair under the lamp. They went past this, and shackled her wrists to the chains hanging from the ceiling.

The guard who threatened her stood in front of her, and reached down to grab her pussy. She jolted, trying to pull away. He squeezed hard enough to draw a squeal of pain from her.

"Wish I had time to take you here. This cunt will be mine soon," he sneered, squeezing again to emphasise it.

Then he turned and walked behind her.

Ange, gasping, felt the chains rise up, until just the tips of her toes brushed the floor below her. She groaned at the strain on her arms.

She heard and felt what happened next at the same time. There was no warning. The sharp crack of the whip occurred at the same time that a line of intense fiery pain erupted across her back. She jolted forward, screaming.

The whip cracked again, and another line of agony crossed her back. It happened again, and again. Her screams became hoarse, her throat became dry. Her eyes closed, but her cheeks were wet with tears. Her back was wet with blood.

She did not know how long she hung there, or how many times they hit her with the whip, but her back and ass felt raw and mangled by the time they lowered her enough for her feet to fully touch the ground. She was unshackled, and she collapsed to the floor with a whimper.

She felt guards grab her raw, chaffed wrists, and her ankles. She was stretched out on the floor. She didn't have the strength to resist.

Cold water was poured on her back. She screamed weakly at the burning sensation. She shuddered, and flailed. Mercifully, the world went black around her.

\--Day 25--

The world slowly became solid around her. She felt a very cool, soothing touch on her back. A pair of hands very, very gently rubbed down, from her mid-back down in slow circles toward her ass. Her upper back tingled, her ass still felt raw and on fire. Where the hands rubbed, the fiery wounds stopped hurting so badly, and began to tingle.

She was on her belly on a bed. It was softer than the cot in her cell, though not as nice as those at Queen's Mayfaire. Her arms were stretched out on either side of her, and her cheek rested on a soft pillow.

She opened her eyes. She saw the lower torso of a woman. She wore a long black skirt, a white blouse, and a white lab-coat. Beyond her, Ange could just make out a white wall, and a wooden cabinet.

Ange winced as the hands brushed across an especially nasty cut running down her lower back.

"Just relax," the woman said. "The pain will ease shortly."

Ange didn't say anything. She lay still as the hands completed their work, rubbing down her ass-cheeks. She shivered. Her lower back and ass tingled. She didn't feel any sensation along her upper back.

The woman took a step back, and Ange shifted slightly to look up at her. She had brown hair pulled into a pony-tail, and dark brown eyes. Her skin was tan, lighter than Gazelle's, though darker than her own, though her skin was paler than usual after her isolation.

The woman smiled, a sad though soothing expression.

"You should be feeling better already."

"Yes," Ange managed to croak through a parched throat.

"The ointment's my own special blend. You shouldn't have much scarring, if any."

Ange didn't respond to this.

"Sit up if you can. Slowly. I want to make sure you're not in any immediate danger."

Ange didn't move.

The woman sighed softly. She stepped out of Ange's vision. Ange shifted, pushing herself up slightly. She saw the woman by a sink. She opened a cabinet, and pulled out a glass. She filled it with water, and turned back to Ange.

"Sit up. Have some water. Slowly though, so you don't hurt yourself."

Ange tried to swallow. She looked at the water, then up at the woman's eyes. They were soft and full of concern.

Ange finally nodded, and slowly pushed herself up to her knees, wincing. She was stiff, and the act of movement hurt.

She was able to move her legs, to dangle them off the edge of the bed.

The woman handed her the glass, and Ange eagerly took it.

"Slowly," the woman repeated. Ange nodded, and sipped the water.

"My name's Edith. I'm a doctor."

Ange finished her water, and handed the empty glass back to Edith.

"I am Ange. I am a fugitive from the Black Lizard Planet."

Edith cracked a smile.

"Is that so? Well, I don't know if I can help you. I've not studied veterinary medicine."

Ange couldn't help but grin.

"Well, my back is now feeling as though it was not turned into mince last night. You would appear to be somewhat competent."

Edith shook her head.

"I don't know how you manage to have such spirit, but I'm glad to see it."

She placed her hands on Ange's cheek. Ange winced, more from the memory of the last girl to do this, but didn't pull away. Edith looked into her eyes, then placed one hand under her chin, to hold her face still. With the other, she gently pulled Ange's eyelids open, looking in as closely as she can.

Edith sighed, and released her.

"I don't have as much equipment as I'd like," she said. A stethoscope was slung around her neck, and she placed the buds in her ears. Ange took a deep breath, and steadied herself. Edith placed the stethoscope against Ange's chest. She listened for a moment, then shifted it. After another moment, she nodded, and pulled it out of her ears, to sling it around her neck again.

"Healthy heart. With what you've been through that's notable. You look thin and underfed."

"Bread and water will do that."

"Indeed," Edith said, a sour note to her voice.

She turned and opened a cabinet. She pulled out a thin length of wood.

"Open your mouth."

Ange complied, and Edith placed the wood against her tongue.

"Ahhh," Ange said, without being commanded.

Edith laughed softly, and looked into Ange's mouth. After a moment, she pulled out the wood, and tossed it into a nearby bin.

"Well, I'd be a damned liar if I said you were healthy. For someone who has endured three weeks of isolation, poor food, and torture you are in remarkably good shape."

"So I am cleared to return home?"

Edith shook her head.

"If I had the power, I'd release you in a heartbeat."

"Perhaps if I were found unfit to continue being held?"

"No, that wouldn't stop them I am afraid."

Ange looked into Edith's eyes for a moment.

"Why?"

"Why am I working here?"

Ange nodded.

"Because I want to help girls and women most in need. Prisons, orphanages, brothels, the streets... I've worked in all of them to help. It just so happens, once I started working here I got locked into it. I'd rather be helping London's prostitutes. Here, I feel like I'm just patching girls like you up so you can be thrown back to the wolves."

"I see. I suppose that I am to trust you then?"

Edith laughed again.

"No, I wouldn't say that. I won't hurt you or allow you to be hurt, not while you're here anyway. I cannot ask more of you than I'd give if I were in your... place."

Ange nodded.

"Well," Edith said, shaking her head, "I have been instructed to make sure you don't die, or become too disfigured. I have done so."

"So you are to throw me back to the wolves, then?"

Edith shrugged.

"If I could think of a reason that they'd accept, I'd keep you here."

Ange said nothing.

"Go ahead and lie down. I'll keep you here overnight. They won't mind that."

Ange looked at her for another moment, then glanced down at her body.

"Sorry," Edith said sadly, "they won't let me clothe you."

Ange shrugged, and settled down onto her side. Edith placed the blanket over her, and softly stroked her head for a moment. Ange's eyes fluttered closed, and she was asleep in a few minutes.

\--Day 26--

Ange slowly awoke. She realized, with a soft groan, that she lay on the lumpy, uncomfortable cot of her cell. She opened her eyes. She saw the dark stone brick walls, ceiling, and floor. She also saw a tray of food and water, sitting beside a folded piece of cloth.

She sat up. She didn't feel pain. She stood, and moved over to the tray. The cloth was a long, clean shirt. She pulled it on over herself, then sat down on the floor. She ate and drank, then stood to move over to the latrine.

At some time during the day, the door opened, and a male guard entered long enough to take the empty tray and mug. Ange watched him with a carefully-neutral expression. The guard barely acknowledged her existence.

After an unknown amount of time, boredom took over again, and Ange settled down under the blanket, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

\--Day 27--

Ange awoke, to find a tray of food and a mug of water. Next to the tray was a pair of plain white bloomers and light brown padded slippers. She pulled the bloomers on underneath the shirt, and slipped her feet into the slippers. She shivered. It was an unreal feeling, to not have bare feet after so long.  
She sat down on the floor, ate her bread and drank her water. She used the latrine, watched the male guard who retrieved the empty tray and mug, and then eventually slipped her feet out of her slippers, pulled the blanket over herself, and fell asleep.

\--Day 28--

When Ange opened her eyes next, she saw a tray of food and water, as usual. As had been happening recently, she also saw a folded piece of clothing beside the tray. She sat up, and stood, before remembering she now had slippers. She slipped her feet into them, and padded over. She picked up the cloth, and unfolded it. It was a pair of thin cloth trousers. She frowned, and glanced up at the door, then shrugged and slipped them on. She then sat and ate and drank.

She stood and padded over to the latrine, then after having done her business there, walked over to her cot. She sat. She looked at the empty tray and mug. She looked next at the door. After a moment, the door opened, and a female guard, which she did not recognize, entered the room. She nodded at Ange, and picked up the empty tray and mug.

"Thank you," Ange said quietly.

The guard blinked, and looked at her.

"For clothes?"

Ange nodded.

The guard shrugged.

"Weren't me. Look better than I seen you in a spot though."

Ange managed a smile, and the guard shrugged again, before leaving the room.

\--Day 29--

Ange was awoken by the door opening. The female guard entered, as she had the last few days. Ange sat up in bed, watching her place a tray of food and a mug of water on the floor. Ange saw that there was more bread today.

She again forced herself to smile at the female guard, who again shrugged. The guard left without another word.

Ange ate and drank and used the latrine. The guard re-entered a bit later to take the mug and empty tray.

She sat on the cot and began to think. They were putting her into a familiar routine. They had done so before, only to yank the floor out from under her. They would build up hope, only do dash it to despair. It was a reasonable, if cruel, way to treat an enemy spy.

She closed her eyes, and considered what she had been through. She shivered. She expected further torture. She expected pain and suffering, and expected to cry and scream and bleed. Her stomach flipped once, as she considered that she would probably be raped at some point. She had been threatened with it many times. She wasn't certain why it hadn't happened already. She could bear it. She had to bear it. She could not betray her friends. She would suffer and die before that happened. She would not die by her own hand, she resolved. That would be a betrayal of the Princess, and all that she stood for. She told herself this. She opened her eyes, and glanced around the empty room. It had been a month, hadn't it? She sighed, slipped her feet out of her slippers, and curled up on the cot. She closed her eyes. If the treatment continued to escalate as it had, she doubted she would survive another month. It would be an escape, if nothing else. Her only regret would be not seeing the Princess one final time before death.

\--Day 30--

Ange's eyes opened, and she sat up. There was no food or water on the floor. She frowned, and slipped her feet into her slippers. She glanced at the door, then at the latrine. She felt as though her routine was being broken. She stood slowly, and walked over to the latrine. The door did not open. She did her necessities, then stood. She walked back to the cot. She looked back at the door. Just before she sat down again, the door opened.

The first male guard she had met, along with two more she didn't recognize, entered.

"C'mon," the guard said with a gesture.

She frowned, and glanced at the floor.

"Don't fight us," he said quietly. "We're not gonna hurt you today. I mean, if you fight you'll get the worse of it."

Ange sighed, and nodded. She walked forward, bracing herself for blows which did not come. Instead the guards backed out of her cell. The first guard placed his hand on her lower back. Ange resisted the urge to pull away from him. He led her, surprisingly gently, to and through the wrought iron gate, then into the hallway which she associated with the first interrogation chamber. She had seen Gazelle there, a month ago. Or was it longer than that now? It didn't matter really.

They continued down this corridor, to the door at the end. The guard opened this door, and gestured her through.

It was another similar corridor. Two doors were open here. She recognized one as the room in which she had been cleaned off. The other was set up as an office. Gazelle Flint stood just inside. She glanced at Ange.

"You get to have some freedom. Don't screw it up."

Ange nodded in her direction.

"Such humane treatment," she said sarcastically.

Gazelle allowed a thin smile to cross her lips.

"We're not savages after all."

She was, gently, pushed on. The door at the end of the corridor led to a large, open space. The air was chilly, but not as cold as the last time. That may have been due to the fact that she was clothed now. Still, the breeze held a hint of salt, as last time.

The guard patted her shoulder.

"The other girls will be out in a minute. Have fun."

She glanced back at him, and he smirked. They walked back out the door, closing and locking it.

She strolled forward. The courtyard was mostly mowed grass, with benches sitting here and there. To one side half of a football pitch was set up, the goal marked off by two tall white poles. A faded white and black ball sat between them.

She ignored this, choosing instead to stroll around the perimeter.

After a moment, a door opened from another side of the courtyard. Three female guards walked out, glancing at Ange suspiciously. They were followed by a dozen women in white shirts and trousers with black up-pointing arrows printed on them. These women ambled out into the courtyard, many of them eyeing Ange with curiosity, or suspicion, or outright hostility.

Ange felt no particular compulsion to join them, but when a group of three walked over to her she also felt no desire to avoid them.

"Fresh meat," a tall woman with a blonde buzz-cut sneered. She recognized the voice.

Ange regarded her neutrally.

"Fresh meat belongs to me," she said in a low voice, taking a step toward Ange.

Ange held her ground, meeting the woman's gaze.

"Hey, Coleman." It was another voice that Ange recognized.

The tall blonde, apparently Coleman, turned with a frown.

"What d'you want, Kat?"

Ange saw the new girl. She had dark hair also in a buzz-cut. Her eyes were dark brown.

"Want you to back away from my property," Kat said, stepping closer to the four.

Coleman regarded her with a frown, then glanced at Ange.

"She yours huh? Alright then."

A smirk crossed her lips. "You get a chance, come see me bitch," she said to Ange.

Ange didn't respond, keeping her expression neutral.

Coleman shook her head, and turned to leave. Her two companions trotted after her.

"Watch your ass, le Carré," Kat said quietly. "She's interested in you. Stand up to her like I just did and you should be okay."

"Is that so?"

"Now it is anyway. If I hadn't come over here she would've probably forced the issue."

"I could easily have put her in her place."

"And had the guards on your ass."

Ange glanced at Kat.

“And as for us, what news do you have?”

“We’re gonna be roomies, so I’ll go into more detail in private. I will say that there is a plan, and it will be carried out in a week or two, at most.”

“Good.”

"Alright ladies," one of the female guards shouted. "time's up. C'mon, form up."

Ange glanced uncertainly around the courtyard. The female guard glared at her.

"You too, solitary."

Ange nodded, and moved over to the other girls beginning to form up into a line.

She stood beside Kat, and behind Coleman and her two companions.

"What'd you do anyway, bitch?" one of the two asked her, glancing over her shoulder.

"Snatch some old lady's purse?" the other smirked.

"Purse some old lady's snatch?"

The girls giggled.

"Shut up," Coleman grumbled. The two glared at Ange for a moment, then edged closer to the tall blonde.

The women were led back indoors, and down a corridor to a large room with long tables and benches. They queued up in front of a wooden counter, where they were handed a tray, a cheap metal spoon, a tin mug of water, and a plate of something that looked like brown gravy poured over mashed potatoes.

"Tastes like shit, looks like shit. Better than bread and water," Kat said with a shrug.

Ange nodded, and experimentally tasted a spoonful of the food.

She shivered. It didn't taste good by any objective measure, but Kat was quite accurate in her assessment. Compared to her month-long bread and water diet, it was very welcome.

After eating, the girls were led back to the general prison floor. There were three tiers, all in a large square around an open interior space.

"Solitary," called a guard. She glanced at Kat, who nodded. Ange walked over to her.

"Few things to remember. First, we own your ass. We tell you to do something, you better damn well have already done it."

"Alright."

The guard frowned, and looked her over.

"Second, watch out for Coleman. She thinks she's the boss here, so she's gonna mess with you. You fight back, she's liable to hurt you bad. You fight back and hurt her, and we hurt you. Got it."

Ange kept her expression even.

"Understood."

"Third, you're only here til you fuck up. Once you do, you get thrown back into solitary."

"I shall endeavour not to fuck up."

The guard smirked.

"Yeah, you do that. Anyway, this is your cell."

It had two bunk-beds. Kat sat on the lower bunk of one. A different girl, with very short dark hair and brown eyes sat on the other. They glanced up.

"Ange le Carré. Your bunkmates, Kathrine Smith and Megan Reilly. Anyway, you're in their care, may God have mercy."

The guard watched as Ange entered the cell, then turned and walked away.

"It is a pleasure ...."

"Can it le Carré," Kat said with a smirk. "We know who you are. Sit."

Ange sat down on the bunk beside Kat. Megan leaned in close.

"So you're a Commonwealth agent?" She had an Irish accent.

"Indeed," Ange said with a nod.

"Megan here's with the Irish Republican  Army . Or was."

"Am."

"Right. Anyway, that makes us all friends."

"No, you're still God-damned English to me. We're allies against the fucking Kingdom, no more."

"Close enough," Kat said with a nod.

"We have a plan?" Ange asked.

Kat nodded.

"We do. We are in contact with our agents through the means of a London-area laundry mill that the Royal Prisons have a contract with. We can smuggle messages out with dirty laundry, and replies in with clean."

"Prisoners deal with the laundry then, I take it?"

"Yeah," Megan nodded.

"Can we smuggle ourselves out?"

Megan shook her head.

"Tried that already. Guards found the girl and put a bullet in her skull."

Kat frowned.

"They said she was shot trying to fight. She might have fought, but the gun was pressed against the back of her head."

Ange nodded.

"And yet we can still use this means to communicate?"

"Yeah," Megan said, "And they're gonna send us some supplies, if you will."

"The three of us will make a break for it. Tomorrow is laundry day. If the supplies are there, we leave in two days. if not, we have to wait a week."

"I see."

A shrill steam-whistle blew.

"Alright, everyone in your cells. C'mon, hurry it up."

Ange glanced out of the cell. Along the landing on their tier, women were moving into their cells, and guards were making sure everyone got in.

After a moment, the heavy iron gate of the cell slowly closed with a grinding sound. It slammed shut.

Ange glanced at the bars. They were thick and heavy, with only few small gaps. They were automatic, or at least remotely controlled. She wondered, idly, if they could be opened locally, or only from a control room.

"Le Carré?"

Ange turned back to the other two.

"You get the top bunk above me," Kat said.

Ange stood, and climbed up to what was to be her bed. She sat on the edge, her legs dangling down. The mattress was slightly more comfortable than the cot in her old cell.

Kat stood up, and leaned against Ange's legs.

"You and me are on laundry duty tomorrow. I'll get the supplies, you keep watch. Make sure the guards don't notice what I'm doing."

"Alright."

\--Day 31--

Ange's eyes opened. The cell was dimly lit. She rolled onto her belly, and glanced out of the cell. A pair of guards were slowly walking along the walkway. She saw no activity in any of the cells in her vision. She glanced down, and saw Megan laying on her back. Her eyes were open, and her head rested on her hands. She wore a very dark expression, and didn't seem to notice Ange.

Ange leaned over the edge of the bed, and looked down at Kat. She was on her side, facing the wall. Ange shifted back to her belly. She watched as the guards came together. After a moment, a number of other guards appeared.

There was a sharp, shrill whistle, and the lights snapped on abruptly.

"Alright ladies, rise and shine!"

There were groans from various cells. The heavy iron gate of the cell started to open with a heavy grinding sound. Ange sat up. Kat and Megan crawled out of bed.

"Breakfast. Shower. Stick by me there, because I’ve claimed you. Gonna need to reinforce that, but I won’t go too far. Then you have indoor free time. You'll be on your own, because I’ve got something else to do. Again, watch out for Coleman. Guards will collect you for laundry duty. Then lunch. Then exercise in the courtyard."

Ange nodded at Kat.

"I see. I look forward to working with you at the laundry."

Megan laughed again.

"C'mon you three," a guard near their cell snapped.

Ange eased herself to the floor, and followed Kat and Megan out. The guards led them down to the lower tier.

Breakfast was a watery gruel, perhaps oatmeal. It hadn’t enough flavour for Ange to decide what it actually was. The shower room was little more than the wash-room she had experienced earlier with the partial dignity of shower heads rather than a rubber hose. A dozen girls at a time were led into a changing room, ordered to strip, then herded into the wash-room. Coleman and her flunkies were in the same group as Ange, Kat, and Megan. Ange stuck close beside Kat, and in the wash-room Kat pressed her against the wall, groping her pussy and capturing her lips in a quick, rough kiss. When it broke, Kat cast a pointed glance at the other girls, particularly Coleman.

Ange, flustered, remained with her back to the wall for a moment, before hurriedly soaping down and rinsing off.

After the shower she dried herself, and was given a uniform like the other girls: A long white shirt with black up-pointing arrows, white trousers, and slip-on shoes that were less comfortable but sturdier than her slippers had been.

They were herded back out, and once more Kat pushed her against a wall, leaning in.

“Sorry about that,” she whispered.

“It is… alright. Not entirely bad.”

Kat chuckled.

“That so huh? Well. Maybe we’ll experiment some tonight. Anyway, that should keep the other girls from pawing at you. Still, watch out for Coleman.”

“I shall,” Ange said quietly.

Kat pulled back from her, smirking, and lightly slapped her cheek. She then turned and walked off. Ange, left to her own devices, followed the other girls into the large open space on the bottom tier of their cell block.

She sat down on a bench, and began to read a London newspaper.

She heard and felt someone sit down beside her, and glanced up. It was Coleman.

“You really Kat’s bitch huh?”

“Apparently so,” Ange replied in a disinterested tone. She looked back town at her paper.

“She needs to teach you manners, then. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Ange sighed, and set the newspaper down. Coleman frowned.

“Am I gonna have to beat some manners into you myself?”

“Kat would be displeased at that, I suspect.”

“You talk like a fucking princess. I wonder if you squeal like one too.”

Ange shrugged.

“You will never find out, Coleman.”

Coleman’s expression darkened.

“Watch your lip, bitch.”

“I believe Kat would be displeased to learn that you are disrespecting her property.”

“I’ll show you disrespect,” Coleman growled, lunging at Ange.

Ange gripped her wrist as she did so, and effortlessly tossed her over the bench. She followed this up by wrenching her arm back, straddling her, and pressing her face against the floor with her free hand.

“As I said,” Ange repeated calmly, “Kat will be displeased.”

“Okay le Carré, let Coleman go.”

Ange glanced up to see a guard standing over them. The guard was grinning in obvious amusement.

“Very well,” Ange said, releasing Coleman and standing up beside her.

Coleman scrambled up to her feet, face beet red, and scampered away,

“Anyone here see what happened,” the guard asked.

A couple girls glanced in her direction with confused looks on their faces.

“Sommat ‘appen?” a short girl with slightly more brown hair than most asked with a smirk.

The guard shook her head.

“I bet you could take over if you wanted to.”

“Perhaps,” Ange stated neutrally.

"Well, it's time to put you to work. C'mon."

The guard led Ange out through a door, down a short corridor, and into a room filled with canvass sacks. Kat was standing within the room, her hands on her hips. She glanced up with a nod.

"Welcome," she said with a smirk.

The guard rolled her eyes.

"You two behave. I'll be in to check on you now and then."

"Of course," Ange replied.

The guard turned and left.

Kat nodded, with a sigh.

"Okay, just like we said."

Ange nodded, and glanced out the door. The guard was nowhere to be seen, though Ange imagined she was nearby.

Kat was opening sacks on one side of the room, taking out clean items of clothing. She folded them somewhat haphazardly, and tossed them on a rolling shelf.

After a few minutes, she chuckled.

"Bingo."

Ange, still watching the door, stepped closer.

Kat pulled out a small cloth packet, and partly opened it. Ange saw lock-picking tools, and a screwdriver.

\--Day 32--

That evening the cell door slammed shut with a grinding sound as usual. Kat had made a show of pulling Ange into the lower bunk with her as a guard passed. Megan watched with amusement as Kat snuggled close to Ange in the bed.

"You ready," she whispered.

"Yes," Ange replied.

"Good. The picks don't help with the cell door, but the guards patrol out there anyway. We go out through the vent."

Kat slipped her hand under Ange's trousers as a guard strolled past. Her hand rested lightly against Ange's body, unmoving. Ange, nevertheless, squealed and jolted. The guard stopped, and glanced in.

"Quiet," she snapped, before moving on.

Megan rolled her eyes.

Kat pulled her hand out.

"Sorry."

"No need," Ange replied evenly.

Kat pulled Ange a little closer. 

"This is kinda nice though," Kat sighed. She sounded genuine.

Ange responded by embracing Kat a touch tighter.

"When do we go?"

Kat chuckled bitterly.

"All business, huh? Give it a few hours. The guards get tired near the end of their shift. We go then, before fresh guards arrive."

Ange nodded.

"And until then," Kat began, before teasingly kissing Ange's lips. "We can have a little bit of fun."

Megan sighed, and rolled onto her other side, facing the wall.

Kat kissed Ange again, and slipped her hand back down Ange's trousers. This time, her fingers teased at Ange's pussy. Ange shuddered, and her hips pressed against Kat's hand. Encouraged by the reaction, Kat slipped her finger into Ange's pussy.

"Wet," Kat murmured as she briefly broke the kiss.

"Been a while," Ange managed to whisper.

They resumed the kiss, and Kat lightly brushed Ange's clit hood. Ange jolted, moaning softly into Kat's mouth. Encouraged, Kat stroked more firmly until she felt the nub of Ange's clit emerge. She rubbed it with firm but tender strokes. Ange shuddered at the sensation, pressing her hips against Kat's hand. Her head lulled back and she groaned. Kat kissed Ange's chin and throat. She shifted her hand, her thumb continuing to grind against Ange's clit while she slipped a finger deeper into Ange's body.

"Jesus you two, don't get too into it," Megan said. "You gotta be ready to go."

Kat sighed softly.

"Probably right."

Ange nodded, swallowing. Kat started to pull away, but Ange's thighs clamped down against her hand. Kat laughed quietly.

"You don't wanna stop though, huh?"

Ange shrugged, her cheeks flush.

"No, but we ought."

"We'll pick this up once we get out."

Ange nodded. There would be no harm, would there? She would likely not see Kat again.

Ange relaxed, and Kat slipped her hand out from Ange's trousers. Her fingers were sticky with Ange's juices. Kat smirked, and slipped them into her mouth. She slowly pulled them out, and nodded.

"Very nice."


	5. Days Thirty-Three to Forty-Six

\--Day 33--

Ange found herself gently woken by the press of soft, warm lips to hers. She groaned softly, responding by parting her lips and accepting the warm, firm tongue that slipped within. She suckled on it, shivering to feel the press of a gentle hand against her breast, under her shirt.

Her eyes opened as the kiss broke, immediately gazing into Kat's eyes. Briefly disappointed, she managed to force a smile on her face.

"Morning," she whispered.

"C'mon you fucking sapphists," Megan hissed. Ange glanced up at her with a frown.

Kat sighed.

"Time to head out, darling."

Ange nodded, and as Kat pulled back she sat up slowly, glancing out of the cell.

Kat moved quietly to the air vent in the wall. Megan watched out through the cell door, and Ange stood more-or-less behind Kat.

After a few moments, she heard a very soft metallic sound. She turned around, and saw that the vent was pulled free.

"Help me up," Kat whispered. Ange glanced back to Megan, who nodded.

Kat scrambled up, with Ange giving her a push from behind. Kat crawled a short way in, then turned around and reached down to pull Ange up.

"Cramped. Hope you don't mind staring at my ass while we move," Kat said with a wink. Ange couldn't keep a grin from forming.

"I shall not, I think."

Megan, with a huff of annoyance, reached up, and Ange pulled her in as well.

"We have one shot at this," Megan said. "There's no way to hide that we've left."

Kat was already scrambling along through the ductwork, and Ange quickly turned to follow.

After an untold number of minutes crawling through the cramped, dark space, they finally saw light ahead of them. After another moment, they came to another duct. Ange glanced back to Megan, then watched as Kat quickly unscrewed the vent, pulling it free, then pushing it outward.

The thee climbed out, to find themselves beside a high stone brick wall. Ange looked up. From here, it looked like a medieval fortress or castle. It may have been at one time, before being modernized into a prison.

"This way," Kat whispered. They moved at a slow, cautious crouch along the wall. They came eventually to a corner, and looked around. They saw the sea, and a distant foggy coastline. On the beach sat a small fishing boat. Two young women, or girls, stood on the beach, glancing around warily. One was tall and voluptuous, with brown hair pulled up short, and a revealing black outfit. The other was younger and shorter, wearing a dark green shawl over a baggy bodysuit. Her hair was orange-brown, and shoulder length.

"Recognize them?" Kat whispered.

Ange glanced at her, then turned her gaze back to the two girls. It could be Dorothy and Beatrice, but at this distance....

"I am uncertain," she replied.

Kat looked at her for a beat longer than Ange was entirely comfortable with, before she turned back to them.

"We can get their names when we get down there, yeah?" Megan asked, a touch impatient.

Ange glanced at her.

"Yes," she stated.

"Alright," Kat nodded, "then we...."

At that moment, a shrill steam whistle echoed through the night. Ange's eyes went wide, and Megan uttered a low, sharp curse.

The girls down at the boat seemed to panic, glancing around themselves and drawing weapons. There was the sound of dogs barking somewhere. Ange saw the squad of armed guards first. They were running along the beach, leading dogs and carrying rifles.

The shorter of the two girls glanced hurriedly at the taller, before scrambling ungracefully onto the boat.

There was the sharp crack of a rifle shot.

The back of the shorter girl's head exploded outward in a spray of blood and brains and bone. Her lifeless body tumbled over the edge of the boat and into the water.

The taller girl screamed. She dropped the gun she held, and fell to her knees, reaching pathetically out to the body of the shorter girl.

The guards were on her instantly, provoking another scream.

Ange was unable to suppress a shuddering wave of nausea.

Before they could see more, another guard stepped around the corner, aiming an automatic pistol at them. He pulled the trigger, causing Ange to jolt back. Megan instantly fell with a ragged red hole in her chest.

Before Kat or Ange could react, a swarm of guards arrived, grabbing them roughly and pulling them to their feet.

They were pushed and dragged back inside the walls of the prison, and taken through dimly lit hallways and through a metal door to a room with multiple seats facing a large window. Gazelle sat in a front row seat, legs crossed. She glanced up as Kat and Ange were shoved into the room. She shook her head and said nothing.

The guards pressed both girls down into seats, and closed the door.

Gazelle nodded, and one guard pressed a button on an intercom.

"Begin," he said simply. There was no acknowledgement. Instead, the light turned on beyond the glass. It was a gallows chamber, a noose hanging down from the ceiling above a trap-door.

After a moment, another door opened inside the chamber. The woman from the beach was dragged in. Her head was covered by a cloth hood, which covered her face. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back. Her outfit had been ripped in several places, one breast bare, her ass and pussy naked as the skirt had been entirely ripped away. There were bruises all over her exposed skin. Ange noted a dribble of fluid run down her thigh.

Kat gasped in horror.

"No," she whispered. She turned to Ange.

Dorothy (or the woman that resembled her, Ange was still uncertain) was shoved underneath the noose.

"Ange, you can stop this," Kat pleaded.

Ange glanced at her with a frown.

"Just one name," Gazelle said simply.

Ange turned to her.

"You could not extract it from her?"

Gazelle glared at Ange.

"She refused to talk."

Ange shook her head.

"You did not give her enough time."

"That's it?! Your friend is about to die, and you can only say that they didn't give her enough time!"

"I did not say she was my friend."

The noose was placed around the woman's neck, and pulled tight.

Kat's eyes went wide.

"No, this... please, say something!"

Ange turned to watch the proceedings.

Gazelle looked at her. She frowned.

"Damn you!" Kat shouted.

"That's enough," Gazelle said calmly.

Kat stood up, fists clenched.

"I can't believe this! You'll let her die? Just like that?!"

Ange turned to her.

"Were you truly a spy, you would know that the lives of two spies, even though comrades or friends, is an acceptable trade to protect countless others. Even strangers."

Ange turned back to the window.

Gazelle nodded at one of the other guards. He glanced at her for a moment, and she nodded again, firmly.

He sighed, and pressed the intercom button again.

"Proceed."

Kat stood, mouth agape, shaking with rage. Ange calmly watched as the guards backed away. The trap-door opened, and "Dorothy" fell through. The noose was drawn tight. Her body jerked once, then went very still.

Kat blinked, and looked at Ange. Ange sat there, impassively.

"I.. I just.…"

"You failed," Gazelle stated evenly.

She looked at Gazelle, and her anger and frustration instantly melted into terror.

"Wait... wait, I.…"

Gazelle drew a revolver from her holster, aimed at Kat, and fired. The girl collapsed, her face no longer recognizable.

Ange glanced at the body, then at Gazelle.

"Was that necessary?" Ange asked in a cold voice.

"Take her back to her cell. Her solitary cell."

"Good. I was afraid the luxuriant diet would ruin my girlish figure."

Ange was pulled up out of her seat, and her hands were handcuffed behind her back. She glanced one last time out the window, where guards were loosening the noose. The body fell down through the open trap-door, and out of sight.

As soon as Ange was tossed into her old cell, and the door was closed behind her, she collapsed to her knees. She closed her eyes, and was unable to suppress a sob.

Kat had been working with Gazelle. The girls that had been killed could have been anyone. Could have been. They might have been Dorothy and Beatrice.

She shuddered, crying heavily as the image of Beatrice getting her head blown off, and Dorothy dropping down through the gallows floor, to have her neck broken by the noose, ran through her mind. She saw them being killed. Them, clearly with no doubt. She tried to remind herself that she had never clearly seen their faces.

A wave of nausea hit her as she saw Beatrice's face clearly, and equally clearly saw the back of her head explode.

She scrambled to the latrine and vomited.

She screamed.

She retched.

She collapsed onto the floor, rolling up into a ball, her knees tight against her chest.

She passed out.

\--Day 34--

The stench of shit and vomit forced Ange into wakefulness. She gagged and pushed herself away from the smell. She swallowed. Her throat was dry, burning of bile.

She pulled herself onto the bed, and kicked away her shoes. She lay back and closed her eyes.

She took a deep breath.

It was not them. Surely it was not. They had grabbed two girls that superficially resembled Dorothy and Beatrice. Maybe they were agents, maybe prisoners.

She took another deep breath.

If Dorothy and Beatrice were dead, then Princess and Chise would be alone. Neither were trained spies. Chise was a strong fighter, clever and cunning and far smarter than anyone gave her credit. Still, she did not understand Western culture very well, and did not fully mesh with the methods and philosophies of Western spies.

Princess was also better than anyone gave her credit for. However, she had been raised to be a Princess. Politically she was astute. Had she known where Ange was being held, she told herself, she would have applied so much pressure as to close the entire prison down merely to release her. Even so, she was not a fighter. She was not a crack shot. She was not strong enough to fight her way in to save Ange.

Ange shuddered.

"No," she whispered to herself. "She is."

Ange shivered.

"She has to be."

If Dorothy and Beatrice were dead, it would be up to the Princess and Chise to rescue her. Then together they would take Gazelle and exact revenge.

She shook her head. She couldn't clarify her thoughts. She could only see Dorothy and Beatrice dying, and could only see Gazelle, stripped naked, being beaten to within an inch of her life by a wild-eyed Princess.

The door to her cell opened. She heard a guard enter. She chose to ignore it. She heard a tray set down on the ground.

"I am sorry." It was the voice of the female guard that had been nice to her for a time.

"Die," Ange replied quietly.

There was no response. Ange heard her walk off, and the door closed and locked behind her.

\--Day 35--

The next morning, Ange awoke to the sound of the cell door being opened. She opened her eyes, and turned her head. A male guard she didn't recognize entered the room without speaking. He picked up the empty tray and mug, which had been left since yesterday, and placed a mug down on the floor. He turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Ange sat up, and glanced at the mug. She looked back at the door, waiting a moment. When the door did not open again, she stood up and walked over to the mug. She ignored the shoes she had been given.

She sat down, and looked again at the door. With a sigh, she picked up the mug. It was water. She drank.

\--Day 37--

Ange awoke hungry. She sat up in bed. She had not been given food yesterday. She looked at the mug sitting on the floor, and walked over to it. It was empty. She frowned, and looked at the door.

A moment later, she heard it unlocked. The same guard as yesterday entered, carrying a fresh mug. He blinked, and shifted his weight awkwardly.

She stared at him for a moment.

"Um. Water," he said quietly, thrusting the mug in her direction.

"Food?" Ange asked simply.

The guard shrugged.

Ange hesitated for a moment, then took the mug. The guard looked at the empty mug on the floor, then at Ange. He slowly backed out of the cell, watching her carefully.

\--Day 39--

She had been barely able to sleep. Her stomach had been rumbling all night, and what fitful dreams she had were all of food.

Eventually, she heard the cell door open. She looked up expectantly. The same guard entered. He watched her closely, sidling over to the two empty mugs. He set a new mug down, picked up both old ones, and left the room as quickly as he could.

\--Day 43--

It was a new routine. Ange barely sleeping, the pangs of hunger gnawing at her empty stomach. Ange opening her eyes when the cell door opened. Ange watching the same guard enter carrying only a mug of water.

\--Day 44--

Ange had not slept the previous night. She sat in her bed, eyes wide. She felt weak. Hunger pervaded her thoughts. She didn't want to move. The door opened.

She looked up. The same guard entered.

"Sorry," he whispered, before setting down a fresh mug, and picking up the old.

She watched him leave, saying nothing.

\--Day 45 (?)--

It had been too long. Hadn't it been too long? Ange tried to think. It was difficult. It hurt. She felt pain in her torso. Pain that represented hunger. She could bear that. She had to bear that. But where was her water? She had drifted in and out of sleep. It had been too long. Her lips were growing chapped. Her throat was dry and parched. She found that she had no need to use the latrine.

She drifted in and out of consciousness. She blinked, and looked at the empty floor of her cell. Where was the water? What had happened?

She tried to focus on how long it had been. When had the guard last entered her cell? Had they forgotten her?

When she heard the door opening, she looked up expectantly.

The guard that entered was all too familiar to her. She felt icy terror grip her guts. He moved toward her, and she was just barely able to suppress a whimper of terror.

"C'mon cunt. See if you're a little more pliable now."

He reached down and grabbed her forearm. A second guard that looked vaguely familiar grabbed her other.

Her knees shook. Her legs felt like rubber. She made the motions of walking, but she was more dragged down the hallway by the guards.

She was taken into the room with three doors. She recognized the female guard standing there. She was watching Ange, undisguised contempt on her face.

A door was opened, and she was pulled into the room with a chair, and with chains hanging from the ceiling. She couldn't have resisted if she had wanted to. They tossed her on the chair, and closed the shackles around her wrists and ankles. It was almost unnecessary.

She blinked, as she felt the chair pivoted. She looked at the chains. She looked at the door beyond them. The door opened, and Gazelle Flint, flanked by two male prison guards, entered the room.

"Ange le Carré. I give you one final chance."

Ange didn't respond. She wasn't sure if she could.

Gazelle strolled over to the chair, the guards remaining behind.

"Names."

Ange stared at her.

"Name." Gazelle said. "One name."

"John," Ange croaked.

Gazelle said nothing.

"Paul," Ange said after a deep breath.

"George," she said again, licking dry lips with a dry tongue.

"You work with male spies?"

Ange blinked.

"Carol."

Gazelle frowned.

"Wendy. Elizabeth."

"I want real names, Ms. le Carré."

"They... they are real."

"Names of the spies you work with."

Ange blinked, and took a deep breath.

"How... how do you know... they are not?"

Gazelle sighed.

"What is the name of the spy we executed?"

"Did... did you forget. Forget to ask her?"

"What is her name?"

"Off."

"Off?"

Ange nodded.

"First name, sod."

Gazelle took a deep breath, and paced slowly toward the front of the room.

"Do you wish to die?"

"Over... over your happiness? Yes."

Gazelle leaned in close beside her face.

"Do you know how miserable it is to die of dehydration, Ange?"

Ange flinched.

"Do you want to find out?"

Ange didn't say anything.

Gazelle stood back up, and paced slowly back to the other side of the room. Ange weakly followed her with her eyes.

"You may only last a few more hours."

"Good. Tired of this."

Gazelle turned back to her.

"I cannot believe that you would choose to die in misery."

"Better. Better me. Than my friends."

Gazelle watched her for a few more moments, before she shook her head.

"This is absurd."

There was a knock at the door behind Ange. She blinked in confusion. Why would anyone knock?

"Come in," Gazelle called out.

The door opened. Ange couldn't hold back a whimper, as she was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of roasted beef, and potatoes, and carrots, and rich brown gravy, and strawberries.

"Dinner, ma'am?"

Gazelle smiled, and nodded.

"Wonderful. Yes, bring it in here."

Ange turned her head weakly. A guard walked past her with a metal folding table. A second held a similar folding chair. The third held a large metal platter, overflowing with food. All of the food she had smelled, and bread and butter and a tall glass of milk and a bottle of wine, and several bottles of water, and... and other plates. So much!

She watched intently as the guards moved to a position in front of her, setting up the table, and the chair, facing Ange, and setting the tray down on the table.

Gazelle nodded at them.

"Thank you. That shall suffice for now."

They nodded, and walked back, all three giving Ange long, meaningful looks as they passed her.

Ange swallowed. No, she tried and failed to swallow.

Gazelle sat down, and looked over the feast that was set in front of her.

Wordlessly, she ate. Slowly. Chewing luxuriantly on the roast beef. Biting off big hunks of bread. Carelessly letting brown gravy and potato mash dribble down onto the table beside her plate.

Ange tried to close her eyes. She found she couldn't. She couldn't stop watching Gazelle eat.

Gazelle raised a glass of wine, tipping it toward Ange.

"To your health," she said in a too-earnest voice. She then slowly drank.

Ange whimpered again. She shivered. She wanted to pass out. She wanted to die, then and there. She couldn't. She couldn't stop watching Gazelle as she indulgently drank her wine, and ate her food.

Gazelle stretched lazily, and stood up slowly.

"I am nearly full to bursting," she said, strolling over to Ange. She held something in her fingers.

Ange looked at it. It was a strawberry.

"I don't think I can eat it all. What say you, Ange le Carré?"

Ange said nothing. Her eyes were locked on the strawberry. Gazelle followed her gaze, and chuckled.

"Oh. Oh my, did I bring this with me?"

She walked up close to Ange. The girl looked up from the strawberry, to Gazelle's eyes.

"Well. I have no appetite for it," Gazelle shrugged. She held it tantalizingly close to Ange's lips. She could smell it. Almost taste it. Her mouth opened. She whimpered again.

"Oh, I suppose you can have it."

She lowered it slowly to Ange's mouth. Eagerly, she closed her lips around the strawberry. She chewed. The sweet fleshy fruit coated her tongue. The juice dribbled down into her parched throat. Ange shivered. Gazelle chuckled again, as Ange desperately licked her fingers, to suck up every last drop of fruit and juice as she could.

Finally, Gazelle pulled her hand away, and strolled back to the table.

"Would you like another?"

Ange swallowed. Her hunger was unbearable. She shuddered.

"Yes," she whined.

Gazelle turned to her with a smile.

"Really? Where is your self-sacrificing nobility of a moment ago?"

Ange swallowed. It was harder this time.

"Please," she whispered.

Gazelle shrugged, and picked up another strawberry, and an uncorked bottle of water. She strolled back to Ange, and lowered the bottle to her. Eagerly, she parted her lips, and gulped at the water that was slowly poured into her dry mouth.

"Slowly," Gazelle whispered, almost tenderly. "Don't drink too quickly. You'll get sick."

After a few moments, she pulled the bottle away. Water dribbled down Ange's chin. She swallowed, and licked her lips. She blinked, and turned her eyes to the strawberry in Gazelle's other hand.

The dark-skinned woman smiled, and held it down for her. Ange was again eager in closing her lips around the strawberry, eating and savouring it. She licked Gazelle's fingers and her palm.

"Good girl," Gazelle cooed.

Ange shivered.

"You want more? Some beef perhaps? Potato? Gravy? Milk?"

Ange looked up at her with wide, desperate eyes, and nodded.

Gazelle's expression hardened.

"Names."

Ange blinked.

"I...."

She trembled.

"Names. Give me one name, and I shall give you a bit of beef. Give me another, and you shall have a forkful of potato with gravy."  
"I ... I can't," Ange whimpered.

Gazelle sighed.

"You won't, you mean."

Ange blinked.

"Please?"

"Will you give me names?"

Ange closed her eyes, and weakly shook her head.

"No?"

Ange opened her eyes. Gazelle frowned, turned, and angrily gripped the edge of the table. With one swift, brutal motion she overturned it. Beef, potato, brown gravy, strawberries, milk, water, wine, and more spilled out onto the floor of the interrogation chamber.

Ange, wide-eyed, looked at it. She whimpered, and sobbed.

Gazelle turned on her with an angry look.

"You refuse the carrot. Perhaps we try the stick?"

Two guards were at her in the blink of an eye, opening the shackles over her ankles and wrists. She was pulled up roughly, and as one guard held her in place, the other tore her pants down. Then the other ripped the shirt off of her.

She was dragged past the spilled food, and past Gazelle, to the chains hanging from the ceiling. She weakly mumbled in protest, whimpering when she felt the shackles fastened around her wrists.

Gazelle stepped over to her, gripped her chin, and raised her face.

"Names?"

Ange shuddered.

Gazelle leaned in close.

"Names!" she hissed.

Ange sobbed, but said nothing.

Gazelle sighed, and stepped back.

"I tried," she whispered.

The chains were pulled up, and Ange was lifted up off the ground, until her toes just barely touched it.

Without warning, a sharp burning pain exploded across her ass, as she was hit with something.

She screamed weakly, closing her eyes.

"Names!"

She was hit across the back. She grit her teeth.

"Names!"

She was hit across the ass, in a different spot.

"NAMES!"

She was hit across the back.

Gazelle sighed. The cuttingly painful hits continued. Ange groaned, and sobbed, and screamed, until she finally felt too weak to even do that. She simply limply jolted with each blow. Her eyes were closed. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Her back bled.

"Stop," Gazelle finally said.

Ange shuddered.

Gazelle stepped over to her, again grabbing her chin. Ange's eyes fluttered open. She could barely see the darker woman through eyes blurry with tears.

"Will you not talk?"

Ange made a very soft whimpering sound.

"You cannot survive like this," Gazelle said softly. Almost as though she was concerned.

Ange shivered, and her eyes closed again. Gazelle released her chin, and stepped away from her.

Ange felt the shackles unfastened, and she collapsed to the ground.

When cold salt water was poured over her back, she flinched, but didn't make a sound.

She twitched once, and then lost consciousness.

\--Day ???--

Ange became vaguely aware that she was still alive. She lay face down on a soft mattress. She felt her back and ass tingling. There was no pain. She heard a voice, but she couldn't understand the words. She passed out again.

When she woke up, she was still on her belly on a soft mattress, and covered by a warm blanket. She opened her eyes.

She recognized the room. It was the infirmary. She tried to pull herself up, but a wave of pain washed over her. She groaned, and decided to lay still.

After a moment, the door opened, and a woman walked in. She recognized her. She remembered her.

"Edith," she whispered.

The doctor knelt down beside her. Her expression was sad. She gently placed a hand on Ange's cheek.

"You're safe now," she whispered.

Ange didn't say anything.

"I gave you some water, and I have food ready for you when you're hungry."

Ange weakly nodded.

"Can you sit?"

Ange shook her head.

"Too much pain?"

Ange nodded again.

"Okay. I can help that."

She stood up, and opened a cabinet. Ange watched as Edith pulled out a hypodermic pistol, and an ampoule filled with bluish medicine. She loaded the pistol, and walked back to her.

"This will sting a bit, but it'll get rid of the pain so you can sit."

Ange nodded. She felt the injection point pressed against her arm, and felt a faint pinching, followed by a burning sensation that spread up her arm.

After a moment, she felt light-headed. She blinked.

"What... what was that?"

"Don't worry about it. It'll take away the pain."

Ange frowned, but nodded.

"It's working."

Edith nodded.

"Good. Can you sit?"

Ange very slowly pulled herself up to her knees. Edith gently placed her hands on Ange's shoulders to help her steady herself.

Ange winced, but was able to swing her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Good. I'll get you something to eat."

Ange nodded.

Edith turned and opened the door. She walked out, leaving the door open. Ange looked at the open door. She sighed. For a moment she considered running. She didn't know where the door led. Where was the infirmary compared to any other part of the prison? Even if she got past the wall again, where would she go then?

Ange felt her stomach grumble, and her mouth water, as the scent of food again overwhelmed her. She looked up eagerly as Edith entered, carrying a tray. Upon it sat a porcelain bowl filled with soup, a plate of melon wedges, and a glass of water.

Ange watched Edith very closely, feeling herself tense up. She remembered what Gazelle had done. She could not bring herself to fully trust Edith.

However, the doctor placed the tray down on a rolling cart, and pushed it over by Ange.

Ange hesitated a moment, looking up at Edith. The doctor smiled.

"Go ahead. No strings."

Ange glanced at the bowl.

"Chicken?"

"Yes, chicken soup with noodles. Gives you some protein that you desperately need, but isn't too heavy."

Ange nodded, and picked up a spoon.

"Eat slowly. You'll get sick if you eat too fast."

Ange shuddered at the words.

"Gazelle said that," she whispered.

"Well, it's true. You need food yes, but your instinct to gulp it all down quickly is wrong. Like I say, you'll make yourself sick and undo the benefit."

Ange nodded, and filled the spoon. She looked. It held chicken broth, a small bit of chicken, and two thick wheat noodles. She brought it to her mouth, closed her lips around it, and allowed the broth to pour into her parched throat. She pulled the spoon out, and slowly chewed the chicken and the noodles. Then she swallowed.

Her eyes closed, and she couldn't help a soft moan.

Edith laughed softly.

"Good?"

Ange nodded, and spooned up more soup.

"Don't forget the melons too."

Ange nodded, and after a few more spoons of soup, picked up a small dessert fork to stab a wedge of melon. She brought that to her mouth. They were delicate, practically disintegrating as soon as she put them in her mouth. The sweet liquid made her shiver.

Edith softly placed a hand on Ange's head. She realized that she was again freshly shaved. Ange glanced up at her uncertainly.

"Sorry. I felt that it'd be best, for now. I know you don't want to be bald, but I don't want you to have lice."

Ange shrugged, but didn't say anything. She instead resumed eating, and drinking water, until the bowl and plate and glass were all empty.

Edith leaned in close to her, and very lightly pressed her lips to Ange's cheek.

Ange's face turned red, and she looked at Edith in surprise.

"I'm just glad that you're alive. I'll get you some clothes. I can keep you here as long as I feel it's necessary."

"Gazelle...?"

She can't touch you in here, Ange. It's a concession she made to me."

Edith, still close to Ange, gently cupped her cheeks in her hands. Ange shivered. She closed her eyes.

"Ange?"

Ange didn't say anything. She tried, and failed, to suppress a sob.

"Ange. Please, understand that you can trust me. I'll do what I can."

Ange nodded, and couldn't hold back. She openly cried. Edith wrapped her arms around Ange, and the girl buried her face into Edith's chest, crying and shaking heavily.

After long minutes, Ange sniffled.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"It's okay," Edith whispered. "You're safe here. You can cry. You can talk to me."

Ange stiffened.

"Sorry," Edith said. "I didn't mean about the things they want to know. Not that. Just, how you're feeling. What I can do to help you. That kind of thing."

Ange relaxed.

"Now, lie down and get some more rest. I'll bring you something to wear, and more food later. Okay?"  
Ange pulled back from her embrace, and nodded. Edith smiled, and helped Ange to lay down, pulling the covers over her body, and again giving her cheek a soft kiss.

Ange closed her eyes.


	6. Days Forty-Seven to Fifty.

\--Day 47--

When she awoke again, she felt stronger, though still ravenously hungry. The room was dimly lit and quiet. She sat up slowly. On the rolling cart, she saw a long, light green shirt, light green trousers, a pair of bloomers, white socks, and leather shoes.

She sat up, pulling on the shirt and socks. Slowly, with a groan of discomfort, she stood up, to pull on the bloomers and pants. She slipped the shoes on, and padded slowly over to the door. Experimentally she turned the knob, and tugged on it. It opened.

She peeked out. It was a short hallway. There were two doors on each long side of the corridor, one of which she had just come out. There were doors on each end. The nearer was marked "WC."

Uncertain, she glanced up and down the hallway, before padding over to that door. She opened it.

She found a toilet, a sink, a mirror, and a shower. She flipped a switch, and an electric light turned on with a soft buzz.

She looked in the mirror, and winced.

Her eyes were sunken. Her head was bald. Her neck and arms looked far too thin. Her skin was very pale, and her eyes were empty. More so than usual. The deep rich blue was faded.

She shuddered, and turned away from the mirror. She glanced at the toilet, and realized that she needed to use it. She did so. She flushed it. Then she turned on the tap on the sink, rinsed her hands, then used the bar of soap that sat beside it. She thoroughly lathered her hands, then carefully rinsed them. She took her time.

"Morning," Edith's voice said behind her.

Ange continued to wash her hands.

"Morning," she said.

Edith placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Done?"

Ange let the water pour over her hands for another moment, before nodding.

Edith pressed in close behind her, reaching around her torso to shut off the water. Ange stood there, looking at her wet hands. She felt Edith gently place her arms around her body. Ange blinked. She glanced up in the mirror. Her eyes met Edith's in the reflection. She shivered.

"I... I need to dry them," Ange whispered.

Edith nodded, and released Ange.

"Of course."

Ange turned, and slowly rubbed her hands dry with a towel that hung on the wall. When she had dried them, she looked up into Edith's eyes.

Edith smiled, and placed her arms around Ange, who didn't hesitate to wrap her own arms around Edith.

Ange shivered, and sobbed again.

"I... can't not cry," she managed between sobs.

"I know," Edith said quietly.

She stood there, again crying openly as Edith held her. After several minutes, she managed to stop again with a sniffle.

"Feel like breakfast?" Edith asked.

Ange nodded against Edith's chest.

"Okay."

Ange reluctantly released Edith, and the doctor stepped back. Ange, looking up at her with teary eyes, walked slowly back to her room, and sat down on her bed.

After a moment, Edith entered with a tray. There was a glass of orange juice, and a bowl of oatmeal. As with dinner, a plate of melon wedges sat beside it.

As Ange ate, Edith sat down on the side of the bed, beside her. Watching her eat. Ange ate slowly, savouring the flavours, the feeling of food. When she had finished, Edith moved closer to her, placing an arm around her waist. Ange leaned against her, and closed her eyes. Edith softly kissed the top of her head.

"You're already looking better. Stronger. When they brought you in, I thought... well, it didn't look good."

Ange shrugged.

"Might have been better to let me die."

Edith placed her hand under Ange's chin, and gently lifted her face. Ange looked up into Edith's eyes. Her expression was stern.

"Don't say that," Edith said in a firm but kind voice. "You deserve better than this."

Ange blinked, and felt tears well up again.

"I... I do not know what to say," she said softly.

"Don't worry about saying anything, Ange. Just let me help you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to die."

"Even if being alive means I suffer?"

Edith leaned in close. Ange shivered, her face turning red. Edith's lips brushed hers. Then pressed in tighter. Ange closed her eyes, even as tears gushed out. Her arms wrapped around Edith's neck, and she eagerly returned the kiss.

Edith pulled back after a few moments.

"I do not want you to die," she repeated in a soft whisper.

"Don't put me back," Ange whimpered.

"I can't promise anything, but I'll do what I can. Okay?"

Ange opened her eyes again, so she could look into Edith's. After a moment, she nodded.

Edith kissed her again. Ange moaned, her eyes fluttering closed. Desperate, her tongue eagerly pressing against Edith's lips. Edith broke the kiss, and Ange whimpered.

"You're still weak," she whispered. "It wouldn't do to over-strain yourself."

"But... it felt good."

"I know, Ange. It did. Give yourself the time to grow stronger, and we can...."

She broke off her sentence, and shrugged.

"Edith?"

"Sorry. I was about to say something that I can't promise."

Ange nodded, sadly.

"I understand."

Edith sighed.

"I will talk to Gazelle again. I'll see what I can do. Okay?"

Ange nodded. Edith smiled, and leaned in, kissing her again.

Edith stood, caressing Ange's cheek one last time, then stepped back.

"I have other things I have to do, and as I promised, I'll talk to Gazelle. You can do what you want, but be careful. You're still weak."

Ange nodded.

"I can go anywhere?"

Edith shrugged.

"Anywhere not locked, sure."

Ange frowned.

"You will be back soon?"

Edith smiled, and leaned back down, to kiss Ange's forehead.

"Of course. As soon as I can. I will bring lunch, in any case. Okay, darling?"

Ange nodded. Edith turned and left, leaving the door to her room open.

Ange waited for a moment, then carefully stood up. she walked out her door, and walked to the WC. She tested the door, and found it unlocked.

She tried the other four doors. The only one unlocked was the one directly across the corridor from her room. She pushed it open. it was a room similar to hers. She turned on the light switch. The bed was empty. On the table sat a small box. She walked over to it.

 _Ange_ , a tag taped on the side read.

She pulled the top off of the box, and looked inside. She found a thin silver chain, with a heart-shaped pendant on it. She lifted it. It was hinged. She fiddled with it, until it opened up. Inside was a miniature picture of Edith. Ange closed the pendant, and clasped the chain around her neck.

She looked around the room. She found, in the closet, a light blue dress on a hanger. She looked at it. It was, she estimated, her size.

She opened a cabinet, and found several pairs of bloomers, along with a note:

> _Ange,_
> 
> _The contents of this room are yours to wear and use as you want. I am breaking many rules here, but I cannot help it. I only pray that I can find a way to keep you safe until you can be freed._
> 
> _You are probably suspicious. I cannot blame you. I cannot explain to myself why I am doing this. Nevertheless, I am earnest in my desires._
> 
> _Soon, I hope, I shall have you with me in London._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Edith._

Ange frowned, and took the note. She continued looking around the room. She found three more shirts and two more trousers and five pairs of socks.

She turned off the light, but left the door open. She walked back to her room, and set the note down on the rolling cart. She sat on her bed.

 _This is a trap_ , she told herself.

Nothing good had happened to her since she had been captured. Anything that seemed good was only there to build up her hope, so it could be dashed again. Anyone that had seemed to care about her had betrayed her. Edith would be no different.

 _Unless she isn't lying_ , she counter-argued.

She had fallen in love with an urchin. When the revolution hit and the urchin was forced to be the Princess, the Princess remained in love with her. Strange things happened in this world. Beautiful things happened.

Ange sighed, and closed her eyes. She placed her hand on the pendant that hung over her heart.

She couldn't tell where gratitude ended, and love began. Edith had saved her life, twice. She was keeping her safe, wasn't she?

She had kissed her. She was feeding and clothing her, and had given her jewellery. She loved her.

Edith loved Ange. How?

Ange loved Edith. Why?

She sighed, and stood up again. There was little to do but walk to the other room, turn on the light, and examine her clothes again.

She used the toilet, washing her hands very thoroughly, then padded back into her room. She sat down, kicked off her shoes, and lay down in her bed.

The smell of food woke her up. She opened her eyes, and looked up into Edith's. The doctor leaned down to her. Ange eagerly moved to meet her. Their lips pressed together, their arms wrapped around one another's bodies. Edith shifted, sitting on the edge of the bed. The kiss broke, and Ange groaned softly. Edith kissed her neck.

"Love you," Ange whispered softly.

Edith gasped.

"Love you too."

Their lips met again. The kiss lingered. It deepened as Edith probed Ange's mouth with her tongue. Edith felt Ange's thin hands tentatively run along her body. The kiss broke.

"You should eat something," Edith whispered.

Ange nodded, looking into Edith's eyes adoringly.

 _This is a trap_ , Ange repeated to herself.

Edith pulled away, and shifted the rolling cart over to Ange.

It was soup again. This time, instead of melon wedges, a little apple tart sat on a plate beside the bowl. A slice of bread and a pat of butter sat on another plate on the other side.

"Going to keep increasing your food intake. Give you more solid things."

Ange nodded, but focused on eating.

The bread was soft, indulgently sweet with the butter. The soup was beef and noodle. There were more chunks of meat, and they were larger.

The tart was so delicious Ange couldn't help but moan in appreciation. Edith laughed softly.

When Ange had eaten, Edith pushed the cart to one side, and settled down beside Ange. The younger girl immediately cuddled against Edith, wrapping her arms around her, nuzzling against her chest.

 _This is a trap_ , Ange told herself. _I am falling into a trap, again._

They kissed, deeply. Edith's hands were so very soft, and so very warm, as they eased up under Ange's shirt. Ange didn't resist as Edith pulled it up and off of her body.

Edith ran her hands across Ange's skin. She cupped Ange's breasts, caressing them gently. Ange moaned, eagerly seeking out Edith's lips again. Ange shuddered. The sensations were overwhelming, and she squirmed and groaned needily.

Edith broke the kiss, and pulled back. Ange whimpered quietly.

"Take off your clothes. We'll take a shower."

Ange nodded eagerly, standing and rapidly pulling down her trousers and bloomers, and pulling her socks off.

Edith, smiling, stripped as well, and took Ange's hand. She led her into the corridor, and into the WC.

Ange shifted uncertainly, as Edith released her hand, and turned to the shower. She twisted the knob, and water began to cascade down from the shower-head to the floor.

Ange froze. Her eyes went wide. She shuddered.

Edith turned to her, and tilted her head.

"Ange?"

The girl whimpered, and took a step back.

"Ange, what is it?"

Ange took a deep breath. She could still breathe. She wasn't drowning.

"The... the water."

Edith watched her closely.

"You don't want to use the shower?"

Ange closed her eyes, taking several more deep breaths.

"I... I think it will be okay. If you are there."

"I'll be here. I won't let anything bad happen, alright?"

Ange opened her eyes, and nodded. Cautiously, she moved into the WC. She looked at the shower head, and at the water cascading down. It was just a shower.

She leaned against Edith, resting her cheek against her breasts. Edith wrapped her arms around Ange, gently rubbing her back.

"It's not dangerous. I swear it."

Ange nodded, and pulled away. Tentatively, she stepped underneath the shower-head. The water hit her torso. She took a deep breath. She could still breathe.

Edith smiled, and walked over to her. She picked up the soap, and a wash-cloth.

"Let me?"

Ange nodded. She closed her eyes, and let Edith wash her. She rubbed the soapy wash-cloth. over her head and face and her neck, down her body, and her legs. She knelt in front of Ange, and ran it between her legs. Ange groaned.

Edith placed the soap and wash-cloth. aside. She rubbed Ange's pussy again. Softly. Ange gasped, and looked down at Edith with wide, uncertain eyes. Edith looked up at her.

"You're beautiful, Ange. Every part of you is."

Ange swallowed, and braced a hand against the wall of the shower. Edith sighed.

"You're probably not strong enough yet though."

Ange nodded softly, sadness creeping into her eyes.

Edith stood up.

"Rinse off. We'll dry up and...."

She stopped talking, and sighed.

"I am being selfish."

"No," Ange said quietly. "No, this is fine."

 _This is a trap_ , she told herself.

Edith stepped back, allowing Ange to rinse off her torso, and arms, and legs. She hesitated for a moment, before quickly placing her face under the shower stream. She backed away with a squeal of fright, eyes wide, and taking deep, gasping breaths.

Edith closed her eyes.

"What did they do to you," she whispered.

Ange swallowed, and hesitantly stepped forward again. She could still breathe.

She darted her face under the shower stream again, quickly. Each time, she took in deep breaths for several minutes, before darting under the stream again.

She stepped back, her face wet but rinsed free of soap. Her eyes were wide, and she was trembling.

Edith turned off the water, and placed her arms around Ange. Ange pressed in tightly against her. She sobbed, burying her face into Edith's cleavage.

"Sorry," she said between her tears.

"It's okay, love. We'll get past this together."

_I am trapped. I cannot leave. I cannot go forward. I cannot go back._

Ange clung desperately to Edith. The one person who had shown genuine tenderness to her since she had arrived. She loved Edith. She knew it was wrong. She knew she would be betrayed. She could not stop the feeling.

\--Day 50--

A new routine developed. Ange slept peacefully, and was woken up with tender kisses. She had eaten scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday, and today was given an omelette with ham and cheese.

When she felt pain increase, Edith gave her a shot of the pain medication. She had only needed it three times so far.

And she and Edith kissed. They spent much of their time embracing naked, just relishing the feeling of skin on skin. Edith teased Ange, but always stopped short of giving her full pleasure. Telling her she was not quite strong enough yet.

They lay together on the bed. Edith held Ange from behind. They were pressed tightly together. Edith had one hand on her belly, the other idly caressing her breasts. Ange's eyes were closed. She felt comfortable, only occasionally groaning when Edith's fingertips brushed a firm, sensitive nipple.

Edith kissed the back of Ange's head.

"You're stronger."

"Yes. Thanks to you."

Edith kissed Ange's earlobe.

"I will give you better food for lunch."

Ange nodded, and shifted onto her back. She looked up adoringly at Edith, her hands grazing the doctor's cheeks.

"Love you," Ange whispered.

Edith smiled, leaning down close. Their lips met.

"Love you."

"Edith?"

"Yes, Ange?"

"Can I leave here? I mean, the prison."

Edith sighed.

"They still want their answers, Ange."

Ange closed her eyes.

"I can't give them."

Edith didn't say anything. Ange opened her eyes again.

"Edith?"

"I want to help you, Ange. I really, really do. I just don't see how I can get around this."

Ange stared up into her eyes for a moment.

"You too?" Ange whispered, her voice trembling.

"No Ange. Not me too. I'm not telling you you should give them what they want. I'm telling you that I can't see any way around it. The only other thing I could say would make you suspicious of me."

"What?"

"That if you tell them what they want, Gazelle has promised to let me have you."

"Have?"

"I'll be released from this job. You'll come with me. We'll go to London, and I'll start work for a hospital there, or set up my own office. You'll stay with me as my lover."

"Lover," Ange whispered.

"But you won't ever be able to be a spy again, Ange. They'll kill you if you try to contact your comrades."

"Comrades that will surely be dead, as I will have sold them out."

"You love them."

Ange nodded.

"Yes."

Edith sighed.

"I know it sounds like I'm trying to manipulate you, Ange. It's all I can do though. Tell them what they want, and they will let you leave with me."

Ange sat up slowly, and turned away from Edith. She glanced around the infirmary.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long can you keep this going? When will Gazelle decide that you have failed, and that I am to be put back in my cell?"

Edith's arms wrapped around her midsection, her breasts pressed against Ange's back.

"I don't know, Ange. Probably not long."

Ange turned, pressing herself against Edith. She kissed her, and it was a deep, lingering kiss. Edith allowed herself to fall backward on the bed. Her hands slid down Ange's back, cupping her ass. Ange moaned into Edith's mouth, shifting her hips. Edith slid her hands along Ange's skin, a fingertip teasing her anus, grazing downward to her pussy.

Ange's eyes closed, and she shifted to allow Edith easier access.

Edith's fingers slid down her slit slowly, then back up.

"Turn," she whispered.

Ange glanced down at her, eyes wide and filled with desire. She eagerly turned around, and Edith guided her hips down. She kissed her inner thighs, nuzzling up along her leg, and guiding Ange's pussy down toward her lips.

Ange moaned, deeply and needily. She resisted the urge to push her hips down against Edith's face. Edith's tongue licked slowly along the outer folds of Ange's pussy, the tip of her tongue just barely sliding in.

Ange bent at the waist, leaning down toward Edith's body, and Edith spread her legs invitingly. Ange shivered, her tongue snaking out to tease at Edith's body. She nuzzled her face into Edith's nether hair, licking and running her fingers slowly along Edith's inner thighs.

Edith groaned, and pushed Ange's sex closer to her. Her tongue dipped inside, tasting the wet saltiness of Ange's fluids.

Ange moaned and shuddered, her thighs clamping around Edith's cheeks. Her eyes closed, and it took effort to continue to lick and finger Edith's pussy. She slid her own tongue into Edith's slit, tasting the older girl. She moaned again, nuzzling in close to her eagerly.

Ange gasped sharply when she felt Edith's tongue graze her clit. She shuddered, and pressed her hips down, back, mashing her sex against Edith's face. Edith nuzzled, licking, and suckling, and Ange was unable to hold back. She shuddered violently, crying out once as an intense orgasm washed over her. Edith continued licking her clit, nuzzling at her pussy with her entire face, and drawing out Ange's pleasure as long as she could.

Ange shuddered heavily, and panted. She swallowed heavily, and eagerly pressed her face against Edith's sex. She licked, and she nuzzled, the tip of her tongue grazing the hard growing nub of Edith's clit. She focused there, licking, suckling, nuzzling, until Edith shuddered as well. Her breathing hitched, and she moaned deeply, into Ange's cunt. Ange closed her eyes. She tried to focus on giving Edith pleasure, on letting her ride out her orgasm, but Ange's own pleasure was intensifying again. She shuddered, her breathing halted, and she cried out again as a fresh wave rocketed up her spine.

Ange panted again. She gasped for breath, and shifted, resting her cheek against Edith's thigh. Her nose, lips, and cheeks were drenched in Edith's juices.

Edith shuddered one last time, and shifted. She gasped for breath, nuzzling her cheek softly against Ange's thigh.

"You okay?" she asked.

Ange nodded, then realized the doctor couldn't see the gesture.

"Yes," she managed to say.

Edith laughed quietly.

"Was it good?"

"Yes," Ange whispered.

"I'm glad."

They lay like that for a few moments, before Ange shifted again, to lay down atop Edith. She leaned in close, then stopped.

Edith looked up at her with a grin of amusement.

"You're a mess," she teased.

Ange shrugged, and grinned.

"You are too," she said.

"Okay. Time for a shower."

Ange nodded. She was able to hold her face in the stream of the shower now. She still felt her stomach twist as she did so, but the fear was controllable. She could always pull back to breathe.

After the shower, Edith asked Ange to wear the dress. When she stepped back into the infirmary room, she was red-faced. The dress fit perfectly, even if Ange didn't quite feel right in it.

"Nice. Yes, very nice. You will need a wig for a while."

Ange smiled.

"I am used to wearing wigs."

Edith's eyebrows raised.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Ange's face turned a shade more red.

"I... I mean...."

"Disguises, right?"

Ange nodded.

"Well. This isn't for that reason. It's so we can be in public together."

Ange blinked.

"Wait... you... you're taking me out?"

Edith sighed.

"I love you, Ange. I can't let you stay in here any longer."

Ange sat down on the edge of the bed, and looked at her uncertainly.

"You want me to talk?"

Edith nodded.

"I want you to talk."

"I can't, Edith."

She sighed again., heavily.

"Ange, if you talk to them we can leave here together. You can have a good, decent life. We'll make love every night, and I'll pamper you. You won't have to feel pain any more. No more torture. No more secret missions. No more killing."

"But I have to sell out my friends."

They were silent for a moment.

"Do you love me, Ange?"

Ange laughed bitterly.

"Of course. And yet, you hold it against me."

"No, Ange. I don't hold that against you. You said it yourself though. Gazelle won't allow this to continue forever. If I can't make you talk to her, she will put you back in your cell."

"What will happen to you?"

"I don't know. I don't think she'll kill me. I'm still useful to them here."

Ange closed her eyes.

"Can I... can I think about it? Overnight. Just one more night. Tomorrow, I'll either talk, or have her take me away."

Edith was silent. Ange opened her eyes, and looked at her.

"Please?"

Edith nodded.

"Alright, love. I'll go get you some food."

Ange nodded.

Edith kissed her again, and stood up. She had dressed while Ange did, so she left to get Ange her lunch.

The young spy lay back on her bed. Her head on the pillow. She closed her eyes.

Dorothy and Beatrice were already dead. She decided to accept this as fact. Chise could escape. She knew she could. She only had to retreat to the Embassy.

That just left Ange. The real Ange. Princess Charlotte. What would happen to her? Would they torture her? Would they arrange for an unfortunate accident? Maybe Ange could plead with Gazelle, begging her to keep the Princess alive. The Duke of Normandy was Charlotte's uncle. Her uncle actually, but the Princess' now. She could beg to him. Plead to him. She could be kept out of the line of succession. Allowed to live a life of peace. Be kept out of politics and espionage.

Ange sighed softly.

 _I am betraying them_ , she thought. _Dorothy and Beatrice may not be dead_. _If I name them, and they are captured, they'll experience what I have. And worse._

She had the brief image of Beatrice shackled to a table, as a prison guard viciously thrust tools into her throat mechanism. She shuddered.

_I can't_ . _I can't_ .

She had a pork cutlet for lunch, with gratin potatoes, and a bowl of chocolate pudding for dessert.

After eating, Edith took her by the hand, and led her to the other door. Ange put on blue, flat-heeled shoes, and hesitantly followed Edith out.

She took her out through a small office space. Out into the open air. There was a gentle, warm breeze. The sky above was clear blue, and the sun was warm on her face. Birds chirped. Edith led her down a path, and through a gate, into the courtyard. It was empty except for them.

Edith slipped an arm around Ange's waist, and Ange placed her hand on Edith's back. They strolled.

"It's a lovely day," Edith said quietly.

"Yes," Ange agreed.

"Imagine this. For the rest of your life. Freedom, with me. Away from the horrors you've lived until now."

Ange stopped, and Edith turned to her, embracing her.

"Think about it."

Ange nodded, embracing her, and nuzzling her face into Edith's chest.

"I do want that," Ange whispered quietly.

Edith kissed the top of her head.

"Talk to Gazelle," she whispered.

Ange stiffened. She looked up into Edith's eyes.

"I cannot decide," she said.

"But you do want a life with me?"

Ange nodded.

"I do, but I do not want to betray my comrades."

"Your comrades. I understand Ange. I actually do. You feel loyalty to them."

"Yes."

Edith sighed.

"If I say any more, you'll hate and mistrust me."

"No," Ange said. "No, I can tell that you are different."

Edith stared into Ange's eyes for a long moment.

"But that isn't enough?"

"I can't easily betray them. Not even for you."

"Easily?"

Ange sighed.

"I am so very tempted. That's the one thought that keeps me from agreeing. I cannot help but see them in the places I have been. Feeling the pain that I have felt. I don't want that to happen."

Edith leaned in and kissed Ange's lips.

"You will never have to know what they feel."

"I will always know what they feel," Ange whispered.

They stood there for a few more minutes, until they heard a door open. They turned, and saw Gazelle Flint walk out into the courtyard. She approached them slowly.

"Ange le Carré, I truly am sorry for what I have done to you."

"Are you," Ange said bitterly.

Gazelle frowned.

"Edith is being truthful with you. It's already arranged. You and she will leave for London, with a generous stipend to set up in an apartment. I am confident that Edith can find a position in medicine easily. You could even work if you wished."

Ange glanced at Edith.

"I cannot decide yet. I thought that I would have until tomorrow to decide."

"Yes," Gazelle sighed. "Yes, you have."

Ange pulled back from Edith, and turned to face Gazelle.

" If I say yes, I do not do so for you."

Gazelle smiled, and shrugged.

"I wouldn't expect that you would."

Ange stared at her for another moment, then turned back to Edith, taking her hands.

"I believe that I need to sit and think."

"Yes, of course my love."

They turned and strolled back to the gate, and up the path to the infirmary.

Ange sat on her bed, and Edith kissed her forehead before leaving.

"I'll bring dinner in a bit."

Ange nodded.

When Edith left, she lay back down on her bed and closed her eyes.

_I am trapped. If I say yes my friends die horribly. If I say no, I am thrown back into my cell, where I will die slowly. I cannot win. I have already lost. I am unable to escape this trap._

Ange shivered. She sobbed. She bawled. At some point or another, she fell asleep.

Some time later, Ange felt a gentle hand caress her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up into Edith's eyes.

"You've been crying?"

Ange shrugged, sitting up slowly.

"Thinking."

"Is it that difficult to decide?"

Ange looked at her with a frown.

"I must choose between my pain and their pain."

Edith shrugged again.

"Dinner is ready. Put aside those thoughts for a moment."

Ange paused for a moment, then nodded. When Edith reached out, Ange took her hand, and stood up. Edith led her out into the short hallway, and to one of the doors that had been locked before. Edith opened it, and inside Ange saw that a table had been set up. A candle sat in the middle, providing subdued light.

Ange couldn't help but smile, and blink. She tried to hold back tears.

"Sit," Edith said after kissing her cheek.

Ange nodded, and walked over to the table. Edith disappeared, and Ange sat with a soft sigh.

_I am in love,_ she told herself.  _I love Edith. Do I choose Edith over_ _Princess_ _?_

Edith returned with a tray. It held two bowls, a pair of wine classes, and a bottle of nice red wine.

The bowl she placed in front of Ange held an uncomplicated salad: lettuce, diced carrot and onion, and slices of cucumber.

Ange glanced at the bowl dubiously, and Edith laughed.

"First course, silly."

Ange's eyes went wide, and she nodded.

"Yes. Of course."

Edith poured two glasses of wine, and lifted hers. Ange lifted hers as well.

"To us," Edith said.

Ange looked at her wine glass for just a moment.

"To us," she repeated, and tapped her glass to Edith's.

After Ange had eaten her salad, Edith darted out of her seat. Ange watched her leave, and again sighed.

_Edith is sweet, and kind, and gentle. I can not refuse her. And yet, I cannot throw away what I have waited and suffered so long to build. Can I?_

Edith returned with another tray. This held plates filled with roasted beef, and potatoes, and carrots, and brown gravy. Much like the meal Gazelle taunted her with. This meal was set before her. Edith didn't taunt or tease her. As Ange ate, Edith watched with a growing smile.

"Good?"

Ange nodded, chewing a bit of beef.

"I'm glad. I made it, you know."

Ange swallowed.

"I fail to understand how you found the time."

Edith speared a potato, and lifted it. "For you, I made the time."

Ange looked at her wide-eyed. Edith grinned, and ate her potato.

Again, when Ange had finished eating, Edith disappeared again.

_A life with Edith is one of peace and quiet. There is no question that I would be happy. A life with_ _Princess_ _is one of chaos and pain. And yet, there has been no question. I have been happy. If I choose Edith,_ _Princess_ _does not become Queen. Probably. I will have betrayed her, and the others. Will I care? Will I forget them in time?_

Edith returned yet again. This time, the tray held a cake with white icing.

Ange gaped in surprise.

"You... you baked a cake?"

Edith set it down on the table, with a sheepish shrug.

"I actually bought this."

Ange blinked.

"Still. A cake?"

"To celebrate us, dear."

"I have not decided anything."

Edith shrugged.

"There's still an us, Ange."

She leaned over and kissed Ange's forehead.

"I love you, Ange le Carré. Whatever decision you make, I will forever treasure our time together."

Ange didn't know what to say.

After they had finished eating, Edith blew out the candle, took Ange's hand, and they went to the infirmary room together. They kissed, and slipped off each others' dress, made love, and cuddled up together as night fell.


	7. Days Fifty-One to Sixty-Nine

\--Day 51--

Ange awoke with the sound of a soothing heartbeat and gentle, even breathing. She rested on a soft, warm, pliable pillow that very slowly rose and fell in time with the breath.

She opened her eyes. The early morning sun bathed the infirmary in a soft, faintly reddish light.

Ange allowed a smile to touch her lips, and then kissed Edith's skin.

The older woman murmured, and Ange's smile widened.

Ange slowly trailed her lips down the woman's body, kissing and nuzzling her. She paused at the doctor's navel, kissing slowly, letting her tongue flick out to tease her skin.

Edith moaned softly, and Ange felt her hand graze her head.

"Morning," Edith whispered.

"Morning," Ange said, the word slurred as she continued to kiss and lick. Edith laughed.

"Breakfast," Edith said in a teasing tone.

Ange giggled, and lifted her head slightly.

"Yes."

She then lowered her face back to Edith's body, kissing down until she reached the tangle of hair above Edith's pussy. Ange nuzzled into it, shifting to lie between Edith's legs.

“Have you decided?” Edith asked, as they lay together, cuddling after making love.

“Yes. I shall talk to Gazelle,” Ange said.

Edith beamed happily. She threw her arms around Ange, kissing her eagerly, not caring where her lips had been moments before.

“I am proud of you. I love you, Ange.”

“I love you, Edith.”

They kissed, and showered, and Ange put on her dress, and as she smoothed it down, Edith entered with a round box.

“For you, love.”

Ange smiled, and opened the box. It was a grey wig, its hue identical to that of her natural hair. It was shoulder-length and symmetrical. She looked at it uncertainly, before glancing at Edith with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“It will do, until your own hair grows back out, darling.”

Ange nodded, and lifted it carefully out of the box. She moved to the wash-room mirror, and carefully set it on her head.

She blinked. Her skin was still pale, but she looked closer to normal. Her eyes were a darker blue, and there was more flesh on her bones.

She smiled. A shiver went down her spine.

_I can have a normal life. A life I could never have had otherwise._

Her fingertips brushed the silver heart-shaped locket. She nodded.

“Ready?” asked Edith.

“Yes,” Ange replied, turning to her and giving her cheek a quick kiss.

“Okay. Let’s go then.”

They left the infirmary hand in hand, and travelled down the path to the gate. Edith opened the gate, and they passed through in to the courtyard. They walked down to the door leading in to the wing that Ange had spent so much time in.

Edith glanced at Ange, who nodded. The breeze teased at her hair. No, wig. At her wig. It tickled the back of her neck. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling. Not a bad one, just strange.

Edith turned to the door, and pressed a button beside it. After a moment, the door opened. Gazelle stood there, and glanced at Ange.

"I'll talk," Ange said quietly.

Gazelle nodded, and gestured down the hallway. Ange took a deep breath, and walked in. The sound of her shoes clicking on the stone brick floor sent a strange shiver up her spine. Her bare feet never made that sound.

They passed through the inner door, then to the interrogation room Ange had been led to her first day.

Gazelle turned to Edith.

"Wait here."

She nodded, then turned to Ange. They embraced, and kissed again.

"See you soon, love," Edith whispered.

Ange smiled.

"Yes."

Ange walked into the room. Gazelle walked in after her. A male prison guard followed, closing the door and standing beside it.

Gazelle gestured for her to sit at the chair by the wall. She nodded, and sat.

"You agree to answer our questions?"

Ange took a deep breath, and nodded.

Gazelle sat, and pushed a piece of paper her direction. She lay a fountain pen on the table beside it.

Ange looked at the paper.

"We need it in writing."

Ange nodded.

"Of course."

She picked up the paper, and looked at it.

> _I the undersigned, Ange le Carré, agree to confess clearly and truthfully the accuracy of the crimes of which I have been accused, and to name my accomplices and the enemy agents to which I have reported._
> 
> _I am guilty of crimes sufficient to send me to the gallows. I hereby understand that by confessing to these crimes, and cooperating in full with the Secret Service Bureau, Scotland Yard, and the police, that I mitigate this guilt, not absolve it._
> 
> _The Home Office hereby further certifies that in exchange for my cooperation, I am to be acquitted of my crimes, given a new identity, and allowed to live with such freedom as any citizen of the Kingdom of Albion, with limitations to curtail any potential contact with enemy agents or interests._

Ange frowned, and set the paper down on the desk. She looked up at Gazelle.

"This is to mean that I shall leave here a free woman, with Edith?"

"It will take a little time to answer all of our questions. We will move you to a very nice cell. It will be as comfortable as the infirmary, if not more so. Your lover will have free access to you. Your responses will, of course, need to be verified."

"So I am not to be free until my comrades—ex-comrades -- are apprehended?"

"No, that isn't necessary. We have ways to verify what you say, without immediately taking anyone in. The actual operation of capturing an enemy agent requires planning."

"Like my capture."

Gazelle nodded.

"Yes."

Ange picked up the paper again, and reread it. Her frown deepened.

_Treason_ , she told herself.

She picked up the pen.

_You are willing to sell them out for your own comfort? To avoid pain?_

She held the pen above the line where she was to sign.

_Selfish coward. You do not deserve freedom if you do this._

She lowered the pen. It touched the paper.

_Dorothy. Beatrice. Chise._

_Princess_ _._

She frowned. She lifted the pen and twirled it in her fingers.

"Is there a problem?" Gazelle asked.

Ange glanced at her.

She set the pen down on the table.

"No," she replied.

She lifted the paper. She grasped it firmly in both hands.

"There is no problem," she said softly.

Slowly, she ripped it in half.

Then she placed the halves together, and ripped again.

And did so again.

And again.

In a few moments, there was a pile of shredded, useless paper lying in front of Ange.

"I cannot do it. I will not do it. Not for comfort. Not for love. Not to save my own life."

Gazelle stared at her for a few minutes. Then she calmly stood up, turned and walked to the door.

The guard opened it for her, and she stepped out. It was closed behind her.

Ange stared at the guard, who shifted awkwardly.

After a few minutes, the door opened again. The first guard she encountered entered the room. He shook his head slowly.

"Come on. You know the way."

Ange stood slowly, and walked to the door.

"Yes," she said simply.

The sound of her heels clacking against the stone brick echoed down the corridors. The guards watched her with expressions of sadness, puzzlement, and uncertainty.

The door to her old cell was opened. She walked in, and calmly walked over to her old cot. She sat down, and looked up.

The guard looked at her for a moment, then wordlessly closed the door. It locked.

\--Day 52--

Ange was awakened when her cell door opened. She sat up in bed, and watched as a female guard she didn't recognize entered with a tray. It held a hunk of bread, and a mug of water.

She set it down, and glanced uncertainly at Ange.

"I," she began. "I don't understand what you did. In a way, I kind of admire it though. If I were in your shoes, I'd have squealed the first week. Certainly wouldn't have passed up the offer they made."

Ange didn't say anything.

The guard shrugged, and walked out of the cell. The door was closed behind her.

\--Day 57--

The old routine returned. Ange was awakened by the cell door opening. She watched the female guard sheepishly set down her food and water. The hunk of bread was smaller every few days. Her dress became increasingly uncomfortable as it got dirtier. She eventually took off the wig. It was removed quietly from the cell.

\--Day 58--

When the cell door opened, the female guard entered carrying only a mug of water. She walked over to Ange, holding it out for her. Ange stared at her, until she finally set it on the ground.

"Sorry," the guard whispered, before turning and leaving the room.

\--Day 64--

Hunger pervaded her thoughts, but she refused to show any emotion, even when alone. She briefly thought about Edith. Her fingertips brushed the silver locket, which had not been taken from her. She wondered what had happened to the woman. Had she been imprisoned? Had she been returned to the infirmary? Did they simply kill her?

Ange put the thought out of her mind. She would never see her again, regardless.

The shoes lay abandoned by the side of the bed. She hadn't bothered wearing them, not for moving around in the cell. The dress was soiled. It was torn in places.

She glanced up at the door. The guard was late.

She waited, ignoring hunger. Ignoring thirst. Eventually boredom made her curl up in bed and fall asleep.

\--Day 65--

She woke up. She lay on her side, watching the door. They were starving her again. Would they let her die this time?

When the door opened, she remained where she was. A male guard stepped into the room. The door closed and locked behind him.

It was only after a minute that she recognized him. Utter terror gripped her guts. She sat up, eyes wide, watching him.

"Well well. Looks like we're alone at last."

He lunged. Ange screamed, but let her old training guide her. She grasped his wrist, and tried to force him to continue with his momentum.

She stumbled.

He turned to her, gripping both of her wrists in one hand. She gasped. He was very strong, and she was far, far too weak.

She whimpered, and kicked. In good health she would have won. She knew this. The guard was strong, but not well-trained. Not as well trained as a Commonwealth agent.

She lacked food. She lacked water. She had lost weight, just in the time since she had been put back here.

Worst of all, she lacked hope.

He pulled her arms up above her head. She flailed. She tried to escape. He laughed.

His free hand gripped at her dress. He yanked, ripping away a large swath of the front.

She screamed again, and kicked. She flailed her legs. He reached down and pulled her bloomers down to her shins.

She whimpered. Terror was increasing. She continued to fight with all her strength. She barely had any left.

He held down one of her legs with his knee, and unzipped his trousers with his free hand. They slid down, and he pulled down his pants.

She swallowed, eyes wide. His cock was rock hard, and twitched as he gazed at her.

"Please don't," Ange pleaded. She shuddered.

"Gonna enjoy this," he muttered. He shifted his position. Ange felt the tip of his dick brush the outer folds of her pussy.

"Please," she whimpered.

He thrust into her in one brutal motion.

Ange screamed. Her eyes closed. Pain and humiliation lanced up from between her legs.

"Jesus," he muttered.

He pulled out until just his tip was in her. Blood oozed out of Ange's pussy.

He grunted, and thrust again. Hard. He drove his cock almost entirely into her.

Ange gritted her teeth, whimpering.

"Tight," he said.

He pulled out, then thrust again.

And thrust again.

Ange sobbed. She shuddered. Pain, humiliation, and terror clouded out every other thought.

His thrusts increased in speed. He grunted. He thrust harder, driving his dick deep enough that his balls hit Ange's ass with each thrust.

The thrusts slowed, but got deeper and harder. He closed his eyes, pushing as deeply as he could into her.

His dick throbbed. He grunted, as he came inside of Ange's body.

He pumped a few more times, emptying his balls into her.

Ange sobbed, crying out weakly. Shuddering.

The guard panted, holding her wrists for another moment. He stayed where he was, until his cock softened enough to slip out of Ange's pussy with a wet squelching sound. Mingled blood and cum oozed out of Ange's body.

The guard released her hands and stood up. Ange, bawling, curled up into a ball, pulling her knees up to her chest.

The guard pulled up his pants and trousers, then opened the cell door. It sounded, for a moment, as though he left without closing the door, but then came back in.

"Food," he grunted. Then she heard him walk out. The door closed and locked behind him.

She managed eventually to shift positions. She blinked. Her eyes were blurry with tears. She just barely saw a tray with a hunk of bread, and a mug filled with water.

She swallowed, and pulled herself into a seating position. She winced. Pain lanced through her abdomen.

Ange managed to crawl over to the tray. She drank water. She ate bread.

She used the torn shreds of her dress to wipe cum and blood off of her violated pussy.

She crawled into bed, curling up again, and passed out.

\--Day 66--

The door opened. Ange curled up into a ball, whimpering softly. The door closed and locked.

The male guard grabbed her and pulled her out of bed, dumping her onto the floor.

Ange kept her eyes closed. She could only whimper pathetically, weakly trying to roll away from him.

He took the time to rip her dress off of her. Then he grabbed her roughly, forcing her face into the stone brick floor with one hand. With the other, he roughly grabbed her breasts.

"Remember what I said before, bitch?"

She whimpered.

"No," she pleaded weakly.

He didn't hesitate. He shoved his cock into her ass. She screamed, writhing, and desperately trying to pull away. Her legs flailed, rubbing against the floor. He grunted, continuing to push hard into her tight asshole.

She grit her teeth, closing her eyes. The pain was unbearable. She clenched her fists. She wanted to pass out, but did not.

He grunted loudly, when his cock was entirely in her.

"Rip your ass, cunt."

He pulled out, and then thrust back in.

And thrust.

And thrust.

And his cock eventually exploded. Ange sobbed in pain and disgust.

He pulled out of her with a rude, wet sound. Ange felt cum, and likely more blood, ooze out of her.

She shuddered, sobbing heavily on the floor.

As before, she heard the door open behind her.

"Food for fucks," the guard sneered.

After a moment, the guard left the room, and the door closed.

She pushed herself up, and saw a tray of food and a mug of water.

\--Day 67--

Ange shuddered into wakefulness. She lay on her side in the cot. She faced the wall. She blinked. 

_Food for fucks_.

Was he going to rape her again today? Or would he make her do something to him to get food? She took a deep breath.

_Better to starve_ .

She wouldn't do anything for him. She couldn't stop him raping her, but she could refuse to make anything easy for him.

She lay there on her side. The door did not open.

She groaned, and gingerly sat up.

There was no food, no water.

She swallowed.

So they were going to starve her again for a while. Was that it?

She blinked. Her vision was blurry. Was she crying?

She lay back down. No point sitting up. No point doing anything, was there?

She rolled over, and faced the wall again.

She heard the door unlock and open.

Ange whimpered, curling up on the bed.

She heard the guard approach her.

"Hey?"

It was the voice of the first guard. The one that, all told, had been as kind to her as any.

She shivered, and rolled to her back slowly. She looked up. He stood by her bed, looking down at her.

"You here to rape me?" Ange managed to ask.

"No. I'm here to give you food and water."

"For a price," Ange said.

The guard sighed.

"For a price."

She sat up in bed. The door to the cell was closed.

"If I refuse?"

"No food or water. And the guard tomorrow might not give you the dignity of a choice."

Ange stared at him for a long moment. She sighed, and dropped her gaze.

"What price," Ange asked quietly.

She heard him undo the button and zipper of his trousers. She shuddered, and looked back.

His cock hung exposed, erect and twitching slightly.

"Use your mouth," the guard said. "Don't think about biting me. I won't hesitate to beat the shit out of you if you do."

She looked up at his face. She blinked. Her vision was blurry. She felt tears dribble down her cheeks.

She swallowed, and shifted forward. She tentatively wrapped one hand around the shaft of his dick. He groaned.

She parted her lips, and brushed them against the head of his cock. She felt it twitch again, and the guard sharply drew in air.

Ange hesitated for a moment.

_Starve today, rape tomorrow. Pleasure him today, pray he comes back tomorrow?_

Suppressing a wave of nausea, she slid her lips over the tip of his dick, opening her mouth wider to allow it to slip inside.

She felt his hand rest on the side of her head.

"Slowly. Suck a little. Use your tongue on it. Rub it with your hand."

She closed her eyes. She shuddered. She obeyed his commands, sucking lightly and running her tongue up and down the cock as she let it push deeper into her mouth. She slowly moved her hand up to meet her lips, then slid it down to his balls.

"Use your other hand too."

She lifted her hand, uncertainly, gently touching the side of his dick. His free hand took hers, and guided it to his balls. She started gently squeezing and caressing them.

He groaned.

"That's right. God. Your mouth feels so good."

She opened her eyes, and glanced up. Through her tears, she could see his face, contorted in pleasure. His eyes were closed.

He placed his other hand on her cheek.

She closed her eyes again, and turned her focus to sucking his dick. She let it push in to her mouth as far as she felt comfortable, then slowly let it slide back out, all the way.

She pulled back a little, opening her eyes. She let her hand slide all the way up his shaft, feeling her own saliva coat her hand, then as her hand rubbed back down his shaft, she lapped at it with her tongue, from the tip down the sides and the top and the underside. It twitched again, and he groaned.

"You done this before?"

Ange pulled away and shook her head.

"You're a natural, then."

He used gentle pressure with his hands to guide her back to his cock, and she opened her mouth to accept him in. She kept her eyes open this time, looking up at him. He also had his open, and he gazed down at her with a remarkably gentle, fond look.

She felt her cheeks turn red, but ignored this. She focused, as before, on sucking, and on sliding her tongue along him. As before she slid her hand up his shaft to meet her lips as she brought her mouth down along his cock.

He applied a little more pressure with his hands, forcing her further down his dick than she had before.

"Relax," he whispered.

She shivered, and continued to suck.

Then she felt his cock hit the back of her mouth, and she involuntarily gagged. Ange pulled back, and he didn't prevent her, letting her pull away from his cock and his hands.

She leaned back against the wall behind her bed, gasping.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands, and leaned down to her.

"That was pretty good. I'll give you food now."

She nodded, and looked up at him with relief.

He stood back up, pulling up his pants and trousers. He groaned, walked to the door. When it opened, he leaned out for a moment, then back in with a tray. It held a mug of water, a hunk of bread, and a plate of apple wedges.

She looked at the tray, unable to keep surprise from her face.

He set the tray down.

"I'll be back in a bit to collect the tray. Then I'll see you tomorrow."

Ange nodded, and waited for the guard to leave, before moving to the tray. She sat on the floor, and ate an apple wedge.

\--Day 68--

Ange awoke when the door opened. She sat up slowly in bed, and watched as the male guard entered. He smiled at her.

"Morning."

Ange nodded, but didn't say anything. Her expression remained neutral.

"Want to try again? If you'd prefer I can just make love to you."

Ange frowned slightly.

"No. You would fuck. There is no love involved."

He shrugged.

"Okay. So you want to suck me again, or let me fuck your pussy?"

"I will suck you."

The guard undid his trousers, and this time Ange left the bed. She knelt in front of him, and pulled his cock free herself. He gently caressed her head with his hands.

"Nice," he whispered.

She picked up where she had let off before, sucking his cock into her mouth, while her hands fondled and caressed his balls, and slid along his shaft. Ange swallowed, and sucked him as deeply into her mouth as she could. She tried to relax, and to avoid the reflex of the other day.

He grunted, and she looked up at his face. His eyes were open, and his face contorted in lust and intense pleasure.

She pulled back slowly, then sucked him back in deeply, rubbing her hand up and down. She continued this, sucking him in deeper each time, until she felt his cock at the back of her mouth. She closed her eyes, and focused. She managed to avoid gagging this time, and felt him twitch and shudder. She increased the pace and force with which she moved and sucked, and felt him tense.

"Christ," he grunted. "Gonna cum. Gonna be a bit...."

His grasp of her cheeks tightened, and he slowed her pace, then held her head still.

With a deep groan, his dick spasmed, filling Ange's mouth with thick salty jizz.

Her eyes went wide, and she started to gag again, before bringing that reflex under control.

He pulled back, the last few spurts of cum from the tip of his dick dribbling down Ange's chin.

"Swallow," the guard commanded.

Ange obeyed, and felt it ooze down her throat. When she had swallowed, she gasped and panted.

"Not bad. You get more today."

Ange nodded weakly, and settled into a seated position. The man chuckled, and affectionately stroked her cheek, before pulling his trousers back into position. He brought in a tray with water, bread, and a plate with slices of roast beef.

She immediately gulped down water as he watched, and he laughed.

"Didn't like it?"

She put the mug down, and wiped water and cum off her chin. She shrugged.

"Better than could be," she managed to say.

He nodded.

"Yeah. Will be back tomorrow."

She nodded, already eating a piece of beef.

\--Day 69--

Ange woke up as the door was opening in her cell. She suppressed a shudder. It was better than being raped. She rolled onto her back, and started to sit, but the male guard, the same as the last few days, placed his hand on her shoulder, and pushed her back to the bed. She complied, watching as he closed the door behind him.

When it was closed and locked, he unfastened his trousers and stepped out of them. He walked over to her, and cupped her cheek.

"My choice today," he said in an almost tender voice. Ange shivered, but nodded assent.

He settled onto the bed, arching over her. She looked up at him, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. A small part of her itched to fight. To lash out at him to stop him from touching her. She felt stronger than she had since rejecting Gazelle's offer.

Some other part of her considered that this was the safer path. The easier. It was unpleasant, but it was better than being forced, or being beaten.

"Open your legs," the guard said. Ange hesitated a moment, then slid one leg off the edge of the bed. The guard smirked, and shifted. His cock brushed against her pussy.

She took a deep breath, and shuddered.

"Never had this before?"

"No. Except for ...." Her face turned red, and she couldn't complete the sentence.

"Except for being raped a couple days ago?"

Ange nodded.

"I will be gentle."

"If I say no?"

The guard sighed.

"No food, no water."

Ange closed her eyes.

"So?"

"Yes," she whispered very softly.

He leaned in close to her, one hand on her cheek, the other on the bed by her side. He lightly brushed his lips to hers.

"Ready?" he whispered into her ear.

She nodded.

He shifted his hips, very softly pushing forward. His hand left her cheek, reaching down and lightly spreading her pussy lips. She shuddered, gasping. She felt the tip of his cock slide just inside her body, and the sensation made her whimper fearfully.

"Shh," the guard soothed, kissing her cheek. "It's okay. I am not going to hurt you, I promise."

She closed her eyes, her hands gripping the blanket underneath her.

His hands shifted to her shoulders, and he slowly pressed his cock into her body.

She winced, shivering, and her hands tightened on the blanket below her.

"How does it feel," he whispered again, before kissing her ear.

"Like... before."

"Like being raped?"

She nodded, with a whimper.

"Relax. I don't want to hurt you. Alright?"

She tried. She shifted her hips slightly, making the guard groan, and sending a strange jolt of sensation up her spine.

He kissed her cheek again, then as he pressed in deeper to her pussy, his lips found hers. He pressed his mouth to hers, kissing and shoving his tongue into her mouth as his cock pressed in to its base.

The kiss broke, but he held himself in her for just a moment.

"See? Doesn't hurt," he managed.

Ange took in a deep breath, and it released in a thin, shuddering moan. The guard laughed softly.

"You don't hate it," he said in a quiet, gentle voice.

Ange didn't say anything. He started to pull out of her, and she moaned softly again. Her leg raised up off the floor, pressing against his body.

"I think you like it, even," the guard whispered again.

He pulled almost entirely out of her, again pausing. Ange gasped several times, and nuzzled against his cheek. He pressed his lips to hers, and as they kissed he again pushed slowly into her body.

Ange's head lulled back, and she moaned. He kissed down her chin, and nuzzled at her throat. Ange released the blanket below her, and placed her arms loosely over the guard's shoulders.

He chuckled.

"You do like this," he said. He sounded amused, but pleased.

He pushed until his cock was completely in her, and Ange shifted her hips again, deliberately. Both she and the guard shivered and moaned at the sensation.

"Good," she whispered.

"Yeah," he agreed.

He started to pull out again, making Ange groan, and tighten her thighs against his body.

"Wrap your legs around me," he ordered. She did so, crossing her ankles together.

He pulled mostly out of her again, and pushed in faster this time.

Ange hissed at the sensation, but found herself pushing her hips against his. He groaned and laughed.

"That's right. Push back. Wriggle. Makes it better for both of us."

Ange laughed softly at this.

Their hips hit together. The guard pulled back immediately, still at an easy pace, but without hesitating. Ange found that matching his rhythm, while shifting very slightly, increased the sensation, both of his dick sliding out, and of it being pressed back in.

"Gonna go faster," he grunted.

"Yes," Ange moaned in agreement.

They both moved faster, Ange's pace slightly behind his. Her body felt hot. Her breathing was rapid, gasping. Her response made him increase the pace again. He used faster, harsher strokes. Ange kept up his pace as well as she could, nuzzling against his neck, until the sensations built up. She moaned loudly, her head lulling back again.

He thrust hard. As hard as the other guard had. Ange's eyes widened, and she felt her body go rigid. She gasped, as a sudden and intense orgasm smashed up her body. She cried out, her pussy and thighs clenching against him.

The guard grunted, and pushed deeply into her. His cock spasmed, and his balls emptied their load of cum deep into Ange's body.

Spent, he gasped, and pressed his lips to her cheek. Ange nuzzled back against him, pressing her lips to his eagerly.

When the kiss broke, Ange laughed very quietly.

"Good?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

They lay together for several minutes, cuddling. Then the man pulled up and out, groaning as he forced himself to his feet.

"Gotta get your food. Love to just stay but can't."

Ange nodded, watching him dress.

_I loved Edith. I love Princess. I do not love this man._

He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

He opened the cell door, and stepped just outside.

The guard stepped back in with a tray of food. It held soft white-bread slices, sliced chicken, a dollop of an off-white sauce, and slices of tomato. There was also the usual mug of water.

She sat up, eyes wide in surprise.

He chuckled.

"I told you, I'd bring you more. I aim to spoil you."

She nodded softly.

"Can I... maybe... have a nicer cell?"

He laughed.

"Not my call, darling. I'll ask though."


	8. Day Seventy to End

\--Day 70--

When the door to her cell opened, Ange stood up, a thin smile on her face. The guard looked surprised, but smiled in return.

"I am glad you are here," Ange whispered.

"Are you?" He asked, pushing the door closed.

Ange nodded, and settled down onto her knees in front of him. She reached out and began to unzip his trousers. He gasped in surprise.

"Oh. I see. You are enjoying this, then?"

Ange nodded, pulling his pants down and freeing his cock. She leaned in close, her hands on his thighs, and pressed her lips to the side of his shaft. She kissed down slowly, nuzzling his balls and kissing and licking them, before kissing slowly back up to the tip of his dick. He groaned.

She spent some time slowly suckling on him, before pulling away, and shifting to the bed. The guard grinned, and eagerly moved to her.

\--Day 73--

A new routine developed. The guard entered the cell, and they had sex. Then he brought her food, in quantities nearing what Edith had given her. Today when he entered, he handed her a long off-white shirt. She took it with a surprised expression.

"We're moving you to a nicer cell. You will wear that. I don't want anyone else looking at your body any more. You're mine."

Ange shivered at the words, but nodded. "Yes."

She slipped the shirt on, and stood up.

He opened the cell door, and led her out, his hand on her lower back. They left through the iron gate, and into the corridor where the interrogation chamber sat. Then they went through the other door, to a stairway Ange had not seen before. They went up a flight, then down a nicer, well-lit corridor.

Her new cell was slightly smaller than the infirmary, but nearly as nice. She noticed, before anything else, that the table in the room already held a mug of water and a plate with a pork-chop and green beans.

They entered the cell, and he closed the door behind him. When Ange turned to him, he wrapped his arms around her, and leaned in to capture her lips. Ange did not protest.

When the kiss broke, he smiled.

"I can't say no to you, any more than you can to me. Nice cell, good food. It's all for you."

Ange shrugged.

_Is it worth the price?_

She would not refuse this.

\--Day 74--

Ange slowly became aware of a soft thrumming. Her head rested on a firm though soft pillow. It was warm, and she realized it was the muscular chest of the guard. She opened her eyes. He lay on his back, and she on her side, pressed against his body. She glanced up towards his face. His eyes were closed.

_Do I love this man? No. He is bringing me food. He is keeping me safe. No, he is making me feel safe. There is no safety for me here. He will betray me. Am I letting him take me to delay that betrayal? Am I enjoying this?_

\--Day 75--

Ange woke up alone the next day. She sat up slowly in bed, and glanced at her table. It was empty. She frowned, and stood. She had room to pace. She found herself missing the attention. For so long, she had Edith pamper her. Then, the guard. She didn't know his name, she realized with a start. He was the First Guard. The one that had been kind to her. The one that had seduced her, she realized.

She sat back down on her bed, near the table.

_What do I feel? It is not love. Is this lust? Is it something else?_

The door to her cell opened, and she looked up expectantly. Her hopes vanished in a moment, when she saw that it was a guard she didn't recognize.

He entered the room, empty-handed, and closed the cell door. She looked at him curiously.

"Suck me," he said simply, unfastening his trousers.

She blinked.

"I... I don't...."

"You're the food-whore, right?"

Ange's face reddened, and she looked down at her feet.

"Fucks for food, right?"

Ange closed her eyes, and swallowed.

"Hey, I'm talking to you."

She opened her eyes, and looked up at him uncertainly. After a moment, she nodded.

He pulled his pants down, and freed his cock.

"Alright. Suck me."

Ange took a deep breath, and settled down to her knees in front of the man. She reached out, tentatively, grasping his cock in one hand and cupping his balls in the other. Her lips closed over the head of his dick.

The man placed his hands on the side of her head, and grunted.

"Damn. Yeah, that's...."

He groaned again, as she sucked him into her mouth, flicking the bottom of his cock with her tongue.

He groaned, and his hands tightened around her head. He pushed her head down onto him. Ange closed her eyes, focusing on not gagging, and continuing to pleasure him. She felt his cock press into her throat, and she started to gag. He pulled back enough to stop the sensation, then pressed forward again.

She placed her hands on his thighs to steady herself. She shuddered. He grunted again, and increased his pace. He thrust his hips and moved her head. She gagged, and tried to pull away, but he prevented her from moving.

Her mouth was suddenly filled with his cum, and she pulled away in panic, falling on her ass on the floor. Cum spilled down her chin and she coughed.

The guard laughed.

"Still need practice. Well, guess you're gonna have a bunch of time."

He opened the door, and as Ange swallowed what she could, and wiped away what spilled onto her face, he walked out, and closed the door.

She gasped, and pulled herself onto the bed.

She shuddered, and coughed again.

After a minute, the door opened back up,and the first guard entered. He carried a tray with a mug of water, and a plate with a grillsteak and mashed potatoes. As soon as he set the tray down, Ange was on her feet. wrapping her arms around him. She sobbed quietly.

He put his arms around her, and kissed her cheek.

"Baby, I am sorry. I can't stop them."

"But.…"

"Listen. You're not a free woman."

"You said I was yours."

"Yeah. I was wrong." There was a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Ange pulled away from him, and nodded.

"Alright," she said quietly.

He took a deep breath.

"I'll talk to them, okay?"

She nodded again, and sat down.

"Look, I'm still bringing you food. I still... I mean, I care."

She nodded, and started eating. He watched her for a moment.

"Ange?"

She looked up at him.

"I am sorry."

She nodded again, and continued eating.

\--Day 82--

Ange settled into another new routine. Each day a different guard would enter her cell, and demand a sexual favour. Each day, Ange would reluctantly agree. She sucked cock, she had her pussy and ass fucked, and each day she would end up sobbing in the arms of the first guard after he had brought her food.

She was feeling stronger, physically, than she had in a long time.

Emotionally, she was devastated.

Today after she ate, she sat on the toilet in the room. She had already peed, and emptied herself of as much cum as she could, but she still sat there.

_Edith._ _Princess_ _. I love you both. I wish, I pray, that you could come to save me._

She shuddered.

She managed to crawl into bed, and closed her eyes.

She slept fitfully, with strange dreams of Edith and the Princess, with cocks, fucking her ass and her pussy at the same time. Cumming hard all over her body. Ange saw herself, drenched in jizz from the two women she loved.

\--Day 83--

When the door to her cell opened, Ange was on her side. Her eyes were open, and she was staring at the wall.

"How?" She asked in a quiet, despondent voice.

She smelled food. She heard the tray placed on the table.

She felt a hand gently touch her shoulder.

"You?"

"Ange."

She rolled onto her back, looking up at him.

"I cannot do this," she said quietly.

"What?"

"Fuck for food. I can't. I don't want anyone else to fuck me."

"Ange, the deal...."

"You or no one."

"You'll starve."

"You or no one," she repeated.

_If I cannot have_ _Princess_ _or Edith, then you are acceptable. If I cannot even have you I should prefer death._

He leaned down to her, kissing her lips. She responded, parting her lips, but she lacked energy. She lacked passion. He broke the kiss, and sighed.

"I'll talk to them, and see what I can do."

"You said that before."

"I know. I'll do so again."

She nodded.

"How?"

He winced.

"You... you don't have to today."

She stared up at him.

"Okay," she said after a moment.

\--Day 84--

The next morning, Ange awoke with a groan. She felt strange. Empty. She rolled onto her side, watching the door.

Seventeen days. She blinked. It had been that long since the first guard had come into her cell. Seventeen days. Each one of those days she had sucked or been fucked. Seventeen days. Sixteen, since he had not done anything to or with her yesterday.

She sat up slowly. She refused to accept it. She closed her eyes. She did not crave the sex. She did not. They were training her to associate sex and food. She told herself this. But it had been seventeen days.

Sixteen.

Or something like that. Probably.

The door opened, and she looked up.

It was a different guard. Ange frowned.

"Well. Food for fucks, yeah?"

Ange shook her head.

The guard paused. He glanced at the closed door, then back to Ange.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're the food whore. Everyone knows that."

Ange took a deep breath.

"No. No, he was going to tell them."

"Huh? Oh, your boyfriend. Right. They got sick of his ass whining about you being mistreated. They moved his shift so he can't come to you any more."

Ange gasped. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"No," she whispered.

_No, do not focus on him. He is nothing to you!_

He shrugged.

"Sorry. Shit happens. So, you gonna fuck me or what?"

"No," she repeated.

The guard looked at her.

"Listen, I know what's been going on here. You've got a reputation. Guards come in here, you fuck 'em, you get paid in food. That's the deal."

"No," she repeated.

_No, I can not do this any more._

The guard frowned. His brow knit.

"Are you refusing me?"

Ange didn't answer. She took a deep breath.

He lashed out, backhanding her hard enough to send her sprawling down onto the floor.

She screamed.

He was down on her in a flash, grabbing her wrists.

She kicked, barely missing his balls.

He growled in anger, releasing a wrist to savagely backhand her again.

Ange screamed again. He slapped and backhanded her again, and again. She sobbed, and flailed. He gripped her trousers, tearing them and her bloomers down.

She screamed again, punching and kicking.

He gripped her throat in one hand, leaning down close, shouting obscenities at her.

She bawled, but stopped fighting. He kept his hand on her throat as he pulled down his trousers, freeing his dick.

Ange gasped, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth as she felt him thrust his cock into her in quick, savage thrusts. Hard enough to jolt her body. She shuddered, screaming again as he thrust one last time and spasmed inside her.

He pulled out, and slapped her again.

"No fucking food, bitch. No fucking food! God damn, I'd fucking strangle you if...."

He pulled his trousers up, and glared down at her.

She sobbed, and rolled into a ball.

The guard left, and the door closed.

After a few minutes, the door opened again, and two guards pulled her up to her feet roughly.

She was dragged out of her cell and down through the corridors of the prison, cum seeping out of her pussy, and thrown back into her old cell.

\--Day 85--

Ange lay awake in her cot. She stared at the wall. She felt no desire to move. Her abdomen was sore from yesterday's rape.

She felt utter hopelessness.

She had allowed herself to get close to another person. She had been betrayed again. She wasn't even surprised at the betrayal.

She shuddered.

She heard the door open behind her. She didn't move.

"Um," it was a female voice. Ange didn't respond.

"I have food for you," she said.

Ange shrugged.

She heard the tray set down on the floor.

"Ummm, listen. I was told what happened."

Ange didn't say anything.

"That something like that can happen in the 20th...."

"Die," Ange muttered.

There was silence for a moment.

"I am sorry," the guard said.

Ange didn't respond.

After a moment, she heard the door close behind her.

\--Day 90--

Ange accepted yet another new routine, or a return to an old one. The female guard brought her bread and water each day. Each day she refused to engage. Each day she ate and drank, wondering to herself why. Why hadn't she just refused to eat when she was first put in this cell?

Today when the cell door opened, she sighed. She did not move, just as she had not the last few days. She expected the female guard to say something.

The door closed, and she heard heavy footsteps.

Heavy hands grabbed her, and pulled her out of bed. She screamed, and kicked.

"I'm home," said a voice that made Ange freeze in terror.

"No," she whimpered.

He tossed her to the floor, and she rolled onto her back. It was the brutal guard, who had raped her before. She shuddered.

He rubbed his hands together, then reached down. She tried to scramble away, but there was nowhere to go. She grabbed her wrist, yanking her up to her feet. He clenched his hand into a fist, and drove it into her stomach.

Intense pain shot through her body, and she started to double over. Before she could, he punched her face. She blinked. The world blurred, and she heard a ringing in her ears. He didn't ease up, raining blow after blow on her. She collapsed to the ground, shocked.

Before she could register the change, he was inside her, brutally thrusting into her pussy.

She lost track of time. After he fucked her pussy for a time, he switched to her ass, and then finally thrust his cum and shit covered dick into her mouth, finally jizzming hard into her throat.

He stood up, leaving her coughing, cum oozing out of her ass and pussy and mouth.

He left, and Ange passed out.

\--Day 98--

On alternating days, the brutal guard raped her without giving her food. On other days, the female guard entered and left her the bread and water she had come to hope for.

Today, she heard the door open behind her. She heard the tray set on the floor. She felt a hand touch her shoulder.

She whimpered softly, bracing to be raped.

"I am very sorry," the female guard whispered.

Ange said nothing, but couldn't stop another whimper.

After a while, she heard the door close behind her.

\--Day 99--

Another day passed. At the time she wasn't aware of this. She had eaten her bread and drank her water, then lay back down in bed, staring at the wall.

She felt thirst first. She rolled slowly onto her back, and looked at the floor. The empty mug and tray still sat there. She looked at the door.

She sat up slowly. She felt hungry. No, she had been hungry for a long time. She felt a greater intensity of hunger. She should have received her bread.

She stood up, despite wobbly knees, and a sore body. She staggered over to the door.

She pressed her ear against it. She couldn't hear anything.

"Hello," she said weakly.

There was no response.

"Hello? I... I am sorry."

No response.

"Please... please give me food. I...."

She blinked.

"I will fuck for food," she whispered.

There was no response.

She managed to return to the cot before collapsing. She rolled onto her side, and stared at the wall.

"Please," she whispered once more.

There was no response.

She curled up into a ball, and closed her eyes.

_I am going to die now_ , she told herself.

She felt it. She realized it was true. She resigned herself to it. She would die alone in this cell. She would never see  Princess , or Edith, ever again.

She heard the door open behind her. The noises she heard were strange, but she didn't move.

She would refuse to eat. She would refuse to drink. She would die. She could not take any more. She gave up.

She heard footsteps behind her.

_No, no, not now. Please no, not now._

She wanted to die. Not fuck for food. Not be raped. She couldn't take it any more. She wanted to scream it out.

_Let me die!_

A hand touched her shoulder, and she whimpered. They wouldn't just let it happen, would they? They would humiliate her at least one last time, before....

" _Charlotte_?!"

Everything froze.

Ange's heart stopped beating. Her breath caught in her throat.

_No._

She opened her eyes, and turned her head.

A mirror was held up to her. She saw her face. Saw her deep, rich blue eyes.

_No._

She didn't have long, luxuriant, blonde hair.

She wasn't wearing a dark blue and black dress.

She didn't hold an automatic pistol in one hand, with the other resting against her shoulder.

Ange blinked.

The other girl stared down at her with wide, shocked eyes. Her cheeks were stained with tears. Her lips quivered.

Ange screamed, and scrambled out of the bed. She sobbed, heavily, and crawled into a corner. She curled up into a ball. She bawled, shuddering. She thrust a thumb into her mouth, suckling on it as she shook.

"Charlotte," Princess' voice was quiet. Thin. Trembling. She stood up slowly. "What have they done to you?"

"Your Highness, we...."

Beatrice looked into the room.

The Princess glanced back at her.

She gasped, and walked slowly in.

"Miss Ange," Beatrice whispered, a note of shocked terror in her voice.

"Tell Dorothy and Chise we found her," the Princess said in a wavering voice.

Beatrice nodded. She looked at the huddled, naked figure cowering in the corner.

She couldn't find any words. She turned and staggered out of the cell.

Princess holstered her gun, and moved slowly over to Ange.

"Charlotte," she whispered again.

"No," Ange whimpered. "No, don't touch me. You'll be corrupted."  


"No Charlotte. I am here to save you."  


" T oo late. I'm worthless. Violated. Betrayed you. Kill me. Please,  Princess . Kill me."

Princess sobbed.

"I.…"

Somehow, the sound made something click in Ange. She shifted. She looked up into the Princess' eyes. She saw her shaking. Crying.

Ange cried out, and weakly wrapped her arms around Charlotte.

They clung to each other. Bawling.

When Dorothy, Chise, and Beatrice entered the room, they found the two like that.

Clinging to each other.

Desperately holding one another.

Shuddering. Sobbing.


End file.
